Conspiracy
by Truvoyal
Summary: Fifth and last in the series begun with Betrayal? and continued with Courtmartial, Separated, and Mutiny. Kirk is back in his own galaxy, with new challenges and unexpected enemies. Ties up some loose ends from previous stories and brings together several different threads. Rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Warning! This story is NOT canon. Please read author's profile before continuing, lest you be annoyed at this AU. Also, this is the fifth story in the series, and knowledge of the previous stories is assumed without summary here. Lastly, I am continuing the punctuation convention of using asterisks to denote mental conversations. Personal thoughts and dialog with God remain in italics.

Chapter 1

Kirk had become increasingly pensive the closer they got to home. One night about three days out, he couldn't sleep and went to the holodeck for a walk. Both McCoy and Spock saw him go.

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what's bothering him. You want to talk to him, Spock, or shall I?"

"I will try, Doctor."

xxxx

Kirk was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the holodeck floor, which had not been set to any of the available programs. He turned when he heard Spock approach.

"Hello, Spock."

"Perhaps you do not wish to be disturbed?"

"Not a problem. Please, sit down." Spock sat.

"Do you dislike the available programs for the holodeck? I would be happy to write one to your specifications."

"No, they're fine. It's just that sometimes, I need a dose of reality." He gestured at the bare walls.

Spock did not reply. Kirk sighed.

"Spock, are you here because you have a problem, or because you think I have a problem?"

"As this vessel approaches our galaxy, it is natural to think of the things we are returning to."

"I thought we agreed on brutal honesty." Kirk was confused by Spock's attempt at tact.

"It was an essential ingredient in the success of our mission, yes."

"But you don't wish to live that way all the time?"

"I do not wish to pry," Spock explained. "Privacy is a valued commodity, especially in the close quarters of a space vessel."

"Are you concerned about my privacy, or have I violated yours?"

"Not at all. My concern is for you."

"Spock, I thought we were close friends."

"We have been very close, yes."

"But you're not sure you still want to be?" Kirk didn't want to assume anything.

"Jim, I will always be your friend." Spock straightened as if almost offended that Kirk would question it.

"Under my current definition of the term 'friend', there is no such thing as a topic that is too private, a question too personal, an issue too sensitive. Complete transparency makes no allowance for hurt feelings, injured pride, or embarrassed dignity. Can you tell me how your definition differs from mine?"

"I believe they are materially the same."

"Then can you explain why you are concerned about my privacy?" Kirk sighed in exasperation.

"I am sorry. It is a habit left-over from our prior association. You did not always wish to discuss your personal struggles. I would typically provide an opening for you to share, if you desired a listening ear, while not forcing you to refuse a direct question, if you did not wish to talk. Please forgive me for not adjusting myself." Spock lowered his head and consciously relaxed his back muscles.

"Of course." Kirk smiled in relief. "But let me say this. Just because I am committed to complete transparency doesn't mean you have to be. You have my permission to ask me absolutely anything, anytime. But that does not mean that I will assume the same privilege with you. You may not wish to be completely transparent, and that's okay."

"I am by nature a very private person, but with you, I wish to be transparent. However, I am not very good at it, so if you would be so good as to prod me when necessary, I would be grateful."

Kirk laughed. "I'd be glad to. Now, maybe we can start this conversation over. Why have you come?"

"I wished to protect you from pestering by Dr. McCoy."

"How so?"

"We both saw you come up here. Had I not agreed to follow you, he would have."

"But, pestering?" Kirk was confused again. There was still a great deal he didn't know about these people. He suppressed the mental sigh over the lost memories.

"Dr. McCoy has a well-known reputation for insisting that we face things we do not want to face. When we are annoyed, we call it pestering. That does not stop him however, and we put up with it, because we know he means well."

"Sounds like pestering is another word for demanding transparency. So you just gave me permission to pester you. Will you give Dr. McCoy that permission too?"

"He does it without permission. But perhaps I shall."

"If you did, I bet you wouldn't get so irritated at him for doing it." Kirk grinned.

"Possibly not. I shall consider it. Thank you."

"You're quite welcome."

"Now, since you have told me to ask, will you tell me what is troubling you?"

Kirk gave him a pensive look. "You guessed right. It has to do with arrival in our galaxy. When you first took me from the Klingons, you asked if I would want to return. These last couple of days, I've sensed the Lord adjusting me on this." He took a deep breath. "If it is possible to do, I must go back. I belong to Konti. I was taken from him by deceit. I must restore to him what is rightfully his."

"It is probably possible." Spock's reply was carefully void of all emotion.

Kirk looked at him closely. "Transparency includes the expression of emotion."

Spock sighed. "I am not angry, nor am I surprised. Saying goodbye to a friend hurts, but I will not withdraw the friendship in order to avoid the hurt. I will help you do what you must."

"I am overwhelmed. Instant understanding and acceptance is a rare gift. Thank you, Spock."

xxxx

Kirk told the rest of the crew at breakfast. The response was subdued, even from McCoy. Then he challenged them to a four-hour long marathon volleyball tournament. At the end of it, Kirk was tired, but so was everyone else, except Spock. That afternoon, they each sought out Kirk for a few minutes of private conversation. It was all encouraging. That evening they held another 'transparency discussion'. Kirk's departure was the only topic suggested for discussion. They wanted Kirk to share first.

"This would be easier if you all were angry. I could offer myself as a punching bag, and then we'd all feel better."

McCoy snorted. "You know better than that!"

"I would feel better, even if you wouldn't. All I know about the first time is what you've told me, but this time, it's my decision. No one is forcing me to leave you again. So why aren't you angry?"

They looked at one another helplessly, trying to decide wordlessly who was going to try explaining. Finally, Uhura volunteered.

"Captain-" She hesitated. "The pain is- hard to describe... But anger? Never! One of the things you have modeled for us all these years is the willingness to make personal sacrifices. I cannot think of one time when you looked at the cost to yourself and said, 'no, the price is too high.' As far as we can tell, you never consider the cost to yourself at all. So how can we be angry with you? We can't."

"I would be angry with me."

"Nae, Cap'n, ye wouldna' be angry." Scotty shook his head sadly. "Ye'd be settin' th're tryin' ta figure oot 'ow ta help."

"Which is exactly what you all are doing. Okay, maybe if I just talk for awhile. My feelings about this are pretty confused. I feel as if I ought to want to stay, and I do. These weeks of working with you have been a joy. Being part of this team has been immensely satisfying; leading it a rare privilege. You all have taken me in, accepted me, loved me, made me a part of you. The mission succeeded beyond my wildest expectations, not because of what I did, but because of what you all did."

He ignored the undercurrent of objection to that remark.

"In spite of all that, I don't really feel a part of you. Not because you haven't tried, but because our paths have diverged. You all have a place on the _Enterprise_. I no longer do. Perhaps it's a blessing that I don't remember it. Spock carries those memories, but to retrieve them risks his life, which would be unnecessary if I return to the Klingons.

"It's hard to explain how I feel about them. I realize it's a foreign concept that they could be my friends. I have less than a year of recent memories, more than half of which was spent with them. I remember the night I tried to share my experiences. You were appalled, even though you tried to see it the way I do. So I don't expect you to understand that Konti and Koh are my close friends."

Chekov shook his head and Uhura nodded. Kirk didn't give either a chance to verbalize their response.

"Looking at the externals, anybody would have to be crazy to choose torture and death over a civilized, safe future, somewhere in the Federation. Or even an uncertain, not necessarily safe future. I know what awaits me with the Klingons. And it's not the first time I've been called crazy." He grinned at McCoy who glared back at him.

"But whether I prefer to stay or go is irrelevant, even if I could figure out what I want. I am going because I have a moral obligation to Konti. I chose to be his slave. That was a life-long commitment. Just because my life has lasted a lot longer than I expected doesn't change things. All of which doesn't mean he'll be happy to see me. He and Koh hated the torture a lot more than I did. Most of it, I didn't care. Anyway, there's an even possibility that Konti will say he doesn't want me back. But I have to give him the option. Any questions, comments, whatever?"

Sulu jumped in. "We'll just have to pray that Konti says 'no' then."

"Go ahead, but I have to go prepared to stay. A slave has no rights, freedoms, or control over his circumstances. Surely you remember that!"

Everyone chuckled.

"Sir," it was Chekov. "If you go prepared to stay and Konti says 'no', then how vill you get back?"

"There are a number of details to be worked out. To some extent, it may depend on where Konti is."

"Cap'n, are ye plannin' ta take yer memories o' us 'n' this mission wi' ye?"

"That is a problem I have been reluctant to face. It would undoubtedly be safer for everyone except Mr. Spock if I did not. Mental surgery is never to be undertaken lightly; I will ask him to do it only if we decide it's absolutely necessary."

xxxx

Two days later they entered the Milky Way galaxy. First began searching for Konti. Kirk said his goodbyes, and he and Spock climbed to First's room. They sat on the floor in silence, but it was not awkward. Neither felt a need for words. The others were gathered in Third's room to await the verdict. Two hours went by. Kirk took a nap.

"Spock, I've found him. ETA ten minutes."

"Captain, Jim, it's time."

Kirk rolled over and stretched.

"Now if you had been Koh, you would have wakened me by running a finger down my spine."

"Indeed."

"Mm- My back is not looking forward to this."

Kirk started shedding clothes as he talked.

"With the massive scar tissue you have, one would expect permanent nerve damage."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Pain when there is no stimulus, as well as an inability to discern touch."

"Charming." This in Klingon. "Sorry." Reverting to Standard.

"Don't be."

Kirk was now completely undressed. He lay down on the floor, and gave himself the injection he'd got from McCoy.

"Goodbye, Spock. No regrets."

"Goodbye, Jim."

Spock placed his hand on Kirk's face. It was the work of only two minutes to wipe the last three months of memory. Spock withdrew, picked up Kirk's uniform, and gave a parting comment to First.

"The stage is yours, First."

Spock disappeared into the room below, and closed the floor elevator. Less than two minutes later, Kirk woke up. First would have a word with the doctor later. That dosage was supposed to be good for at least fifteen minutes. Kirk sat up.

"I thought you were eating me for breakfast. Don't I taste good?"

"Be patient. Konti will be here shortly. Then I only have to explain this once."

Five minutes later, Konti suddenly appeared. Kirk stood up. Konti stared in shock. First spoke into the silence.

"Please sit down, both of you." They sat. "Konti, I am the creature that appeared on your planet some three months ago. Everything I said and did there was for the express purpose of taking Kirk from you. I never intended to eat him, or anyone else. I required him for an urgent mission in my galaxy. Millions of lives were saved through his successful completion of that mission.

"Upon our return to this galaxy, he requested that I return him to you, rather than take him to his own people. He said you owned him, and therefore had a right to the return of what is yours. For security purposes, his memory of the entire mission has been removed. He thinks I am about to eat him for breakfast. Any questions?"

Konti was speechless as he tried to assimilate what First had said. He looked at Kirk, who grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Konti looked back at First, then again at Kirk. "Talk to me."

"My perception is that five minutes ago, he was in the process of eating me. He told me to scream; I did. Suddenly I was here. He said you would be here soon. That's all I know." Kirk spread his hands helplessly.

"Kirk, you died three months ago. I watched him eat you! It was horrible! And the scream - even knowing it was faked, it was awful. No one in that entire arena doubted that you were dead."

"I'm sorry. Can we go home now?"

"Home?" Konti stood up and started to pace. "Kirk, I haven't been home in two and a half months. He disabled my vessel the same way he did the arena. Suddenly I was here instead of on my bridge. I presume here is on his vessel. He must have an instantaneous transporter." He paused and frowned at Kirk. "Kirk, stand up and let me look at you. Turn around. Now close your eyes and think about what your body should look like. Describe it to me."

"Well, the back has the results of 240 lashes; we didn't get to the last sixty. Then there's the usual crop of marks on my thighs." He chuckled. "And then there's the extra ten lashes on the back of the legs."

He opened his eyes and looked at Konti. "Are you angry?"

"No, and I wasn't then either. Anyway, there's no marks on your legs. And your back's been brutalized by something much heavier than anything I did. So the evidence supports my version of reality, not yours. You should be used to getting your memory wiped by now."

"Not a chance." He grinned. "Adjust myself faster, maybe. Anyway, so I'm missing three months. What did he say happened? He took me to his galaxy, and millions of lives were saved. Well, I'm glad, I guess. Too bad I don't remember having anything to do with it. But something else occurs to me. Do I look any older? Maybe only three months passed here, but travel to and from another galaxy? I may have lost considerably more than three months."

"No time travel was involved," put in First.

"You don't look any older to me, which means he has incredible technology. But we already knew that. The thing that has me puzzled is why did he need you specifically, how did he know where you were, and why would he go to such elaborate lengths to get you? He could have taken you from Koh's lab much more easily. Why the elaborate show of eating you?" Konti wondered aloud.

"If I had taken him in private, you would have been blamed for his escape."

"Excuse me, but- why do you care?"

"Because he cares."

"All of which points to the conclusion that you knew Kirk from a prior encounter. You knew he wouldn't fear death. So you engineered this complex escape, complete with a faked death. And now you're bringing him back to me. Why?"

"I would have returned him to his own people. He insisted that he belonged to you. So I am returning to you your property with apologies for its unauthorized use."

"Can we go now?" Kirk interrupted.

"Kirk! What am I going to do with you?! Everyone on Qo'noS thinks you're dead!" Konti protested.

"Well, tell them I'm not."

"It's not that simple. But I've got a question." He turned to First. "If you had to wipe Kirk's memory, why are you willing for me to know as much as you've told me?"

"I have nothing to fear from you or your people."

"I thought you said- wait a minute- Kirk told you to wipe his memory, didn't he?"

"He was aware that his memory of the mission would be removed."

"And whose idea was it to do that?" Konti accused.

"It was not my idea."

Konti turned to Kirk.

"Don't tell me you wouldn't do that!"

Kirk grinned. "I can't deny it, though of course, I don't remember doing it."

"Kirk, why are you so determined to return? There's no reason why you should, and every reason why you shouldn't."

"Konti, I am your slave. I made that choice knowing it was a life-time commitment."

Konti sighed. "If I thought they would let us live and work together in any kind of normal life, I would love to have you back. I have missed you terribly. Several times a day, I hear your laugh, or I know what you would think about whatever. I find myself approaching life with that same reckless abandon. The joy is wonderful, and equally incomprehensible to those around me. I understand you more now than I ever did when you were there." He moved away as if lost in his own thoughts.

Turning back, he faced reality. "But they won't leave us alone. If you return, it'll be back to the torture chamber, finding ways to break you, and prolong your death to make you suffer as much as possible."

Kirk grinned.

"I know you don't care, but I do. I don't want that for you. So for once, I'm going to exert dominance over you. I am your master and you will obey me. You will go back to the Federation, and you will live! No more torture! As far as the Klingon Empire is concerned, you will stay dead! Is that clear?"

Kirk sobered. "Yes, it is. Do you understand what you are condemning me to? A safe, boring, purposeless existence. To live within the Federation without the freedom to be of use to them will be difficult for me. Yet I cannot be of use to you either, if I am to remain as if dead. But if you hate the torture that much, I will go. And even though I will never see you again, I will remain true to your command."

Konti stared at Kirk.

"You really do think of yourself as my slave! You would rather die than live a safe, boring existence, but you would do it simply because I told you to."

"Yes, on all counts."

"Kirk, I want you to be free. Part of what got me through these months was knowing you were free - no more pain. Before you boarded my vessel, you were known as the most formidable enemy we had. You and your ship made more trouble than any ten others combined. Honorable trouble, mind you, but everyone was glad when you were removed from the field." He shook off the memories.

"I would restore you to that life if I could, even knowing that someday we would meet as enemies. You were born for that life. It's what being free means for you. I can't make it happen, because there are things outside my control. But I will do what I can, and pray that God will complete the restoration.

"Kirk, you once did something for me that was just between us. What I'm going to do now is also just between us, because I have no way to make it public."

Konti stood up and took Kirk's hands in his own.

"James T. Kirk, I hereby release you from your commitment to me. You are slave no longer. Will you accept your freedom?"

Kirk stared at him for a long moment before grinning broadly. "Yes, Konti, I will."

Konti gave Kirk a big bear hug.

"I cannot remove the marks of ownership. There is no precedent for this situation. In my culture, once a slave, always a slave. I do not know if the brand could be removed or covered by surgery. Of course, you have innumerable other scars as well. The scars on your soul are not so easily removed."

Kirk shook his head. "I don't have any. There's no bitterness, no soul-pain. I will remember the joy, not the agony." He smiled warmly.

"I'm glad. I must tell you about the collar, however. I cannot cut it off you. It is booby-trapped against tampering. A dozen two-inch spikes would protrude from the inside of the collar before I could finish cutting it off."

Kirk grinned. "Charming. Thanks for the warning, though."

"All of which means that any Klingon you meet will know you are a slave. And I can't exactly make a general announcement to the contrary."

"Don't let it worry you. Even without the brand and collar, any Klingon I meet is likely to know my face. They'll remember I'm that coward slave of Konti's who was eaten by a monster. Should make for interesting negotiations."

"I still shake my head at what you find funny. Anyway, get this 'monster' to take you to Spock. If he found me, he can find Spock. God may restore your memory once you're out of reach of the mindsifter. But if He doesn't, Spock is your best source of data for those missing years. You spent most of them with him. He is your best friend."

"Konti, I will miss you. This is not ending the way I expected. I have no idea what the future holds. But I want you to know I don't regret anything about the time I spent with you and Koh. Please tell him that for me," Kirk requested earnestly.

"I will. Thank you for everything you gave us. We'll never forget you. And who knows, we may meet again. Now if this gentleman will send me back to my own ship, I'll try to figure out what I'm going to tell my crew."

"You could claim amnesia."

They both laughed, bid each other a final goodbye, and First sent Konti back to his ship. Kirk studied First for a moment in silence.

"I don't suppose you have any idea who or what Spock is? He's not the same species as I am."

"Be patient. You will have another visitor shortly."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Kirk's attention was drawn to a hole in the floor that had not been there a moment earlier. As he watched, a humanoid figure appeared and walked unerringly to a point three feet in front of Kirk. Surprising because it appeared that this person could not see.

"May I have your permission to invade your mind for the purpose of restoring your memories of the past three months?"

"I thought he took my memories." Kirk gestured at First.

"That is what we wished you to think."

"We, as in you and him?"

"No, we, as in you and I."

"_I_ wanted me to think _he_ had done it. So Konti wouldn't know _you_ had done it? Did I consider the possibility that Konti would set me free?" Kirk shifted his feet.

"Yes, you did."

"And I told you to give me back my memory if Konti left without me?"

"That is correct."

"If you don't mind my saying so, this is just a little bit weird. So where are we going? You have some kind of reverse mindsifter machine on board?"

"It is not a machine. It is my mind invading yours."

"Oh. You want me to lie down then?" Kirk asked.

"That should not be necessary. The process takes only a few moments, and I do not believe you will lose consciousness."

"Suit yourself then. What do you want me to do?"

"You give assent? Without knowing who I am?" The man tilted his head.

"Yes. You want to know why? I have nothing to lose. One of three things will happen. You will take all my memories - that's happened enough times that I'm not afraid of it; or you might kill me - that's nothing new either; or you will do what you promise, in which case I will have three months of data I don't presently have."

"Quite logical."

"You remind me of someone. Don't know who. There's a much bigger hole of lost memories than just the past three months. But you can't fix that; no one can." He sighed, then put the mood behind him. "I still don't regret it. So, what now?"

"Guide my hand to your face."

A minute later Kirk had his memory back and Spock withdrew.

"Thank you, Spock. I'm sorry to put you through that, and glad you didn't have to add that three months to the collection you're already carrying."

"It was not a problem, Jim. I was glad to help you."

Kirk turned to First.

"First, thanks for a great job. I never guessed, and if Konti did, he was wise enough not to say anything. You're acquiring quite a bit of acting experience."

"I'm going to retire and leave the field to you, Jim. But I'm glad for your sake that it worked. Spock, why didn't you tell him who you were?"

Spock looked as uncomfortable as Vulcans ever do. "There was a matter of some disagreement among the crew. As it was helping them cope, I consented to withhold my identity unless it was specifically asked for."

Kirk started laughing. "They were betting over whether I would insist on knowing who you were before I let you touch me? Who won?"

"Dr. McCoy. He said you would think it unnecessary, that you would quote logical reasons for your conclusion, but that the truth was that you would trust me intuitively. Finally, he said, when you found out about the bet, you would laugh."

"And what did you think I would do?" Kirk asked curiously.

"I do not bet, but privately I concurred with the Doctor's opinion."

Sulu had arrived with Kirk's uniform. "Glad to have you back, Captain."

"Thank you, Sulu. I'm glad to be back."

"Prayer works, sir." He grinned as he disappeared down the hole to Third's room.

xxxx

About an hour later, First had located the _Enterprise_ and taken them to her. Kirk had little time to contemplate the rapidity of change facing him. Having very little idea what Starfleet would do with him, he could only rest in the peace of the Lord. He would face it without fear, just as he had done every hour of every day for the past months.

Captain Young met them in the transporter room. Kirk hung back as each of the others greeted him warmly, and departed for their quarters. They sounded a bit like school kids returning from vacation. Only Spock, Kirk, and Young remained.

"Welcome aboard, Captain." Young smiled warmly. "I am very glad you have returned to us unharmed. My congratulations on successful completion of your mission. I eagerly await news of the details." The smile vanished. "However, it is my unpleasant duty to remind you of Regulation #236, which requires that-"

Spock interrupted. Kirk had no idea what Reg #236 required, but he heard the alarm in Spock's voice, subtle though it was. "Captain, Dr. McCoy and I have already performed the required examinations."

"I'm sorry, Spock. I can't change the regulations."

"I could provide 24-hour escort duty. It would be detrimental for crew morale to find that Captain Kirk is in the brig."

"I understand that, but it can't be helped. And _you_ have work to do."

Kirk jumped in. "I don't know what you two are arguing about, but I've no objections to the brig, and why should the crew care? Anyway, you better call an escort, because I have no idea how to get to the brig from here."

Young looked puzzled.

"Spock, have you told the Captain about-"

"No, I have not. I would prefer a more private environment. However, the escort will expect you to know the way."

He rattled off a complex sequence of directions, which Kirk memorized on the spot. So when the escort arrived, Kirk made it all the way to the brig with no one the wiser. After joking with the guards, Kirk lay down to take a nap. He wondered if he would ever again feel rested enough that he need not take a nap at every opportunity.

About two hours later, Young appeared at his door. Kirk stood up.

"Please, sit down." Young produced the warm smile again.

Kirk sat.

"Spock has given me a concise summary. Much detail has yet to be filled in. He told me what he did to your mind."

"Did he tell you I made him do it?"

"Captain Kirk, even I know Spock well enough to know that no one _makes_ him do anything. But he did say that you consented to the operation."

"That's a serious understatement," Kirk quipped.

"At any rate, he and Dr. McCoy will be arriving shortly. After their examination, which I have to witness, I will want your oral report. You'll have to condense it into about two hours. Immediately thereafter, you will reboard First's vessel for a trip to Vulcan. The reason for the haste is that they have secured a pair of eyes which they are hopeful will be able to replace Spock's lost eyes."

"Replacement eyes! That's wonderful news!"

McCoy walked in. "Don't get too excited til we know whether they get rejected."

But Kirk could tell Bones was pleased. Spock arrived a moment later, and the cell felt crowded with four of them in it.

"Can't we do this in Sickbay?" McCoy complained.

"No, we can't." Young's reply was mild. "Please proceed."

Kirk started shedding clothes without being told. He doubted that nakedness would ever bother him again, though he would try to be careful around ladies. Bones and Spock had already seen the scars, but Young gasped at his first look at Kirk's back.

McCoy was his usual efficient self, and the exam was complete in fifteen minutes, including blood tests. As Bones summarized his findings, Kirk could tell he was still angry at the treatment Kirk had received. Kirk prayed for him, grateful that he himself carried no bitterness. As Kirk finished getting dressed, Spock approached.

"Captain, I regret the necessity of doing this to you a second time." His grave countenance hid just a hint of frustration.

"Spock, it's not a problem. Do you want to sit or stand?"

"Stand, though perhaps Captain Young would prefer to sit." To Young, "The procedure will not be painless. You must be able to remain motionless, so as not to break the link."

"I'll bow to your judgment, Spock. You know what I can do."

"The pain is unlike anything you've experienced before. I do not wish to do this a third time because we lost our witness. So if you permit, please sit on the floor with your back against the wall."

All three sat crosslegged on the floor. Only Young had any support to lean against. Spock turned to Kirk.

"Do you consent to the invasion of your mind by myself, accompanied by Captain Young, for the purpose of determining whether your mind has been tampered with by the Klingons?"

"I do."

"Every part of your mind will be opened to scrutiny by Captain Young as well as myself. Furthermore, the procedure will take considerably longer than the first time. Lastly, the agony will not be lessened by your acceptance of it." The recitation of cautions did nothing to disguise Spock's reluctance to undertake the task.

"It's okay, Spock. I'll be fine."

Spock established a link with Young first; then with Kirk. Though perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised, Young was amazed at Kirk's openness. As Spock probed some very painful memories, there was no hint of resistance or reluctance. Kirk simply didn't care how much pain there was, or how much Young knew about him. About a half hour later, Spock withdrew. Young opened his eyes and looked at Kirk, who smiled at him.

"You all right?" Kirk inquired.

"Yes." Young paused, not sure if he should ask. But Kirk's eyes held encouragement. "How can you live with it?"

Kirk knew he referred to the aching void of lost memories. "By God's grace, one day at a time." And he smiled.

Young shook his head and sighed. "I understand Spock has a way to restore your memories. So when he and Dr. McCoy leave for Vulcan, you will go with them. Meanwhile, as I said, I want as complete a report as you can give me in two hours. If you will accompany me to Briefing Room 4, Spock and Dr. McCoy will write their reports releasing you, and will meet you in the transporter room."

"Excuse me, Captain," interrupted Spock. "The regulations do not permit you to release Captain Kirk until reports have been filed by all three of us, and approved by Starfleet Command Headquarters. With your permission, I will inform First of the delay in our departure."

"Spock, that could take days!" Young replied.

"I am aware of that, Captain."

"Spock, you and Bones go without me. Don't jeopardize your chance at getting eyes. My problem can wait."

"Jim, it is more important to me to restore your memory than to receive new eyes. I have been functioning without them for eleven months. I can continue to function without eyes."

"Spock, I can't order you, and I don't want to argue with you; but I'm telling you, I want you to go, now," Kirk insisted vehemently.

"Dr. McCoy thinks recovery may take several months, even if the surgery is successful."

"I'll wait, even if I have to take a leave of absence. Spock, I'll be fine. Bones, tell him I'll be fine."

"Jim, Spock knows you better than you know yourself. I can't tell him anything about you he doesn't already know. But even I know that your definition of 'fine' differs from that of most people." McCoy turned to Spock. "Nevertheless, Spock, I vote we go now. Jim is right that his problem can wait, and yours can't. If we don't get there in time, this opportunity is very unlikely to reoccur."

"That is true, but there is a 7.63% chance that I will not survive the surgery, and/or the recovery period." Spock's voice took on a bleak tone. "If I do not, then Jim's memories become irretrievable."

"Spock," Kirk interjected, "there's a significant possibility the memories are irretrievable anyway. Not to mention the chance that we'll both die in the attempt to retrieve them. And don't bother quoting me the odds. Just go. Please."

So Spock went. Five days later Kirk was released from the brig and assigned the same cabin (D-4) he had occupied previously, though of course, he had no memory of it. Kirk had no status on board ship, so with nothing better to do, he set about relearning ship's operations. He persuaded Young to make a general announcement to the crew concerning his lost memory. Thus everyone was eager to help.

He set himself a rigorous schedule: 8 hours of study, 8 hours of hands-on time at various crew stations, 5 hours sleep, 1 hour quiet time, 1 hour exercise, and 1 hour eating and personal hygiene. After about ten days of this, Uhura caught him leaving the mess hall after having spent only ten minutes gobbling a meal.

"Captain?"

"Yes? What is it, Uhura?" Kirk smiled warmly, while privately wondering what problem of hers he could possibly help solve.

"Sir, Dr. McCoy is not here to nag you, but it appears to me that someone needs to. Must you drive yourself so hard? You never take any time off. I've not seen you at any of the believers' meetings."

"Believers' meetings?" Kirk was confused.

"Forgive me. Did no one think to tell you? Off-duty personnel gather in a variety of ways for fellowship. There's a schedule posted on the board in the Rec Deck. If you want to be in a small group, talk to Harb Tanzer. In fact, you should make time to talk to him anyway; he's one of your best friends. Captain, nobody works _all_ the time, even Spock, unless we're in the middle of a Red Alert."

"I am in the middle of my own personal red alert crisis. But I appreciate your concern, and I will talk to Mr. Tanzer."

xxxx

Late that evening, Kirk went to the Rec Deck. Tanzer saw him coming, automatically gauging his condition by his appearance. Physically he looked better than Tanzer had expected, based on McCoy's report.

But his face was unreadable, until he smiled. "Mr. Tanzer, I have it on good authority that you and I have been close friends. If you're not too busy right now, I'd like to talk to you."

"Of course, Jim. Come on into my office. And call me Harb." He shut the door and gestured Kirk to a chair. "We can talk all night, if you want."

"Thanks, but I don't intend to keep you up all night." He paused as if unsure where to start. "Tell me about your job."

So Tanzer talked for some ten minutes, starting with a basic job description and ending with an explanation of his role in counseling the captain in particular.

"Would you say then, that our relationship has been characterized by some transparency?"

"Absolutely. Because I'm outside the circle of people you work with all the time, you've felt free to say things you might not share with everyone else."

"So you're comfortable with transparency?" Kirk asked warily.

"Yes, Jim. You can tell me anything, and I mean, anything, and it goes no further than right here. I don't even tell Dr. McCoy the things you tell me."

"That's fine, but that's not what I meant. Are you yourself at ease with that much honesty? I've discovered that most of the crew are not. They want to help, but they're embarrassed by my condition. I have to make a joke out of the whole thing before they will relax, be themselves, and give me what I need."

"Jim, I promise you, I will not be shocked or embarrassed by anything you say. I may not fully understand, because I haven't experienced what you've been through, but I want you to be completely honest with me. I'm here to help in any way I can."

Kirk sat back and visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Jesus. I didn't even know I needed this."

Kirk talked for three hours, unloading lots of emotional baggage. When he wound down to a halt, he asked for feedback.

"If you're not too exhausted, I'd like to know what you think of all this."

"The night's not over yet; I'm fine. You want my honest opinion? Without regard for what might offend you?" Tanzer smiled, but it was a serious question.

"Yes. No pulled punches. Let me have it right between the eyes."

"Okay. Here's what I see. First of all, you're functioning amazingly well under the circumstances. I know that doesn't satisfy you, but you need to recognize the stresses of the situation. Most people could not come back from seven months of enemy torture, and function normally without any need for an adjustment period."

"They're my friends, not enemies," Kirk protested.

"In some ways, that makes it worse. Do you have nightmares?"

"No, at least I wouldn't call them that. I dream in Klingon. Konti and Koh are in most of them, sometimes Kezak, sometimes complete strangers, but they're not nightmares."

"You're more comfortable in that environment than this one, because it's more familiar. Your mind and emotions are still adjusting to the change. But seven months with the Klingons is only one piece of the puzzle. There are other, bigger stresses.

"You spent three months on that mission to First's people. Uprooted from the only environment you knew, thrown in with a group of strangers, expected to adjust instantly, forced to lead the team, responsible for all the decisions. And you did adjust, and the mission was an astounding success. But it was very stressful." Tanzer paused, but Kirk seemed happy to let him continue.

"The minute you get back, you're thrown in the brig on a technicality. Nothing you've done wrong, but you're stuck there for five days. Meanwhile, two of the six you've gotten to know take off for Vulcan and won't be back for months maybe. Furthermore, the two who've gone are the ones you got closest to during that mission."

Kirk nodded but still didn't interrupt him.

"Now you're out of jail, but you've no official status, no job to do. Command is waiting on Spock before they decide what to do with you. Meanwhile, you're neither passenger nor crew. You're aboard a vessel with over 400 strangers. The only four people you know at all have big, important jobs to do, and you have nothing to do.

"So you set about filling your days with the task of relearning everything you've forgotten about how this ship runs. But the way you're going about it has a few problems. Tell me, how many times have you been on the Bridge?"

"I haven't."

"How many times have you spoken with Captain Young since he let you out of the brig?"

"Once."

"How much time have you spent with Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, or Scotty?"

"Casual greetings in the mess hall is all."

Kirk made no attempt to defend himself, but waited patiently to see where Tanzer was headed.

"How many times have you been in Engineering?"

"I haven't."

"How often have you come to the Rec Deck?"

"I work out for an hour every morning. The place is deserted at 0500."

Tanzer paused before asking the next question. "I want your instinctive response to the next question, not a thought through answer. What would you do if the Red Alert siren went off right now?"

"Instinctive reaction: head for the Bridge." He smiled. "Instincts can be pretty irrational sometimes."

"Do you know where this vessel is, or what her current mission is?"

"I have no idea."

"Right between the eyes, you said. I think you're playing at it. You're not really trying to relearn the skills necessary to captain this vessel. You're just putting in time. You're hiding behind all this driven activity, in order to avoid any real relationships with people. Mind you, that's one step better than what you did the last time."

Tanzer explained briefly the incident in which Spock and McCoy had helped Kirk get rid of the fear of dying alone.

"So you think I'm fighting demons again?" Kirk asked.

"No, I don't, though I'm by no means an expert when it comes to demons. I'm just saying I wouldn't have been surprised if you were hiding in your quarters. The fact that you're not is a sign that you're coping better than you might be."

"I don't want to be just barely coping." Kirk looked away, trying to hide his pain.

"What do you want, Jim?"

"I don't know." Kirk looked back at Tanzer "I want to be able to do something useful. I don't want to be a nuisance. I certainly don't want Captain Young thinking I'm trying to steal his job. I would like very much to be able to tell Spock that I can function without those lost memories. I don't want him to risk his life for me. It's not worth it. Besides it's not fair. The decision was mine; the consequences should be mine too." Kirk set his jaw stubbornly.

"You'll have to fight that one out with Spock. But I will say this: Spock won't force you to go through with it; you will not be able to convince him that it's not worth the risk; and he will think fairness has nothing to do with it. You may not know this, but the two of you have saved each other's lives so many times that even Spock has stopped counting them."

Kirk thought that irrelevant, but said nothing in objection.

"However the thing most likely to convince Spock that it's unnecessary is to see you fully functional without those memories. But he's not going to be convinced by your reciting the regulations manual, or the crew roster, or even the procedure for replacing a certain circuit in the phaser banks. A captain knows all that and much more besides. But the thing that makes you the best captain in the Fleet is your people skills."

Tanzer grinned. "So if you want it bad enough, you're going to have to jump in with both feet. Stop worrying about being a nuisance. Talk to Captain Young; get him on your side. Spend time on the Bridge - lots of it. Engineering too, but mostly the Bridge. Use your friends. Don't be intimidated. Don't stop studying, but spend more time with people than studying. Get to know the crew, off-duty, as well as on. Lastly, relax; enjoy life; it's not all work.

"And Jim, don't be surprised if they call you to the Bridge during a Red Alert. You have something no one else aboard this vessel can do: you speak Klingon fluently. Uhura's good; she taught you. But she told me that you're better than she is, since you lived it for seven months."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next morning, Kirk made an appointment to see Captain Young. To his surprise, Young made time for him that very afternoon. They talked in Young's office, Cabin D-23. The location seemed familiar, but the interior did not.

"Come in, Captain. Sit down, please. How can I help you?"

Young's smile was warm and genuine. Kirk wasn't sure how to begin. Plunge in boldly, he guessed.

"Sir, I would like to request permission to be allowed on the Bridge for the purpose of retraining at the various work stations on the Bridge. I realize there will be times when this is not practical, and would absent myself during a crisis, so as not to be a distraction. Further, I want you to understand that I am in no wise trying to steal your job. Rather, I am trying to return to a level of functioning that will enable me to be useful to Starfleet in whatever way they deem appropriate. To that end, I would value any assistance or counsel you can give me." Kirk sat with a ramrod straight back.

"First of all, permission is granted to be on the Bridge at any time. I thought I gave you that permission the last time we talked. You have free run of the ship, and that means anywhere. And I don't necessarily want you to leave during a crisis. If the Red Alert siren goes off, your battle station is the Bridge, unless I tell you otherwise. Captain Kirk, may I be honest with you?"

"Yes, of course, please do."

"My position as captain of the _Enterprise_ is temporary. There is no one aboard this vessel who does not want you back as captain. Starfleet is supposed to make that decision two weeks hence. Under the circumstances, an extension of time is reasonable. You do not have to be fully functional in two weeks flat. On the other hand, I will do everything I can to help you get there as fast as you can. I want you to be captain of the _Enterprise_." Young smiled warmly.

"Why?"

"It's a long story. If we succeed, I'll tell you the whole thing before I leave; it's a promise. Meanwhile, if Spock were here, I would ask him to train you. He trained me to deal with blindness in just four days. By the way, I've just received word this afternoon that the surgery was successful. Now they wait to see if his body rejects the eyes. McCoy says one to two months. Depends how fast they can wean him off the drugs."

"Thanks for the update. I hadn't heard anything."

"So, loosely translated, you probably have two to four weeks before Spock returns. So how can I help you?"

"Tell me about a typical day in the life of the Captain."

Young laughed. "There's no such thing as typical. But I probably spend more time talking to people than anything else."

"Tanzer told me that people skills were most important."

They talked another two hours. The next day, Kirk spent several hours on the Bridge. He began with Sulu's station, the helm. That afternoon, he spent four hours with the flight simulator practicing his piloting skills. The next day, Sulu noticed a vast improvement in Kirk's ability.

"I would appreciate it if you could program the simulator for me. I've got the standard maneuvers down pretty well, but I have the feeling there's a great deal more it can do."

"I'd be glad to, Captain. In fact-" His eyes took on a twinkle of mischief. "The crew would love to have some fun at your expense."

Kirk grinned. "What did you have in mind?"

"A contest between you and me. There's nothing like a live opponent to sharpen your skills. The crew will watch and bet on the outcome."

"Sounds like a cinch bet to me. You think they want to watch me get creamed?"

Sulu shook his head. "Don't sell yourself short. I'll give you another day to practice. If you show as much improvement in the second day as you did the first, you'll be a force to be reckoned with. But if you'd rather not have an audience, I understand."

"I don't mind the audience; I don't even mind getting creamed. What I would mind is having it rigged to make me look good. If the crew can't stand the reality, they shouldn't watch."

"They can. Captain, I promise you, I will play to win. You will earn every point you get."

Kirk practiced another four hours that afternoon, and the next afternoon as well. He was tempted to play with it all night long, because Sulu's programs were fun and challenging. But he was committed to spending evenings on the Rec Deck, talking amongst the crew.

The contest was fun. Sulu won, as Kirk had expected. But it took him a full half hour. Kirk hung on by the skin of his teeth, clearly outclassed, but unwilling to give up without a good fight. When it was over, he sat back in the chair and laughed with delight. Sulu came over, grinning.

"How soon can we do it again?" Kirk asked.

"Entirely up to you, Captain."

"Next week then. I'd love to play with this day and night til I'm good at it, but I have other work stations to learn as well."

"Captain, you are already good at it. There aren't ten people aboard this vessel who could do what you just did."

"Sulu, could I have beat you before I lost my memory?" Kirk asked curiously.

"That's an interesting question, Captain. I don't know that we ever took the time for this kind of fun and games. You had several years' experience as helmsman in your earlier years. I always felt as if you knew exactly what I did, and could have done it yourself, though perhaps that's just an impression."

xxxx

Kirk worked his way through the navigation, communications, and science stations. He spent a number of afternoons with Scotty in Engineering. After two weeks he felt much more confident that he had a rudimentary understanding of what everyone on the Bridge did. But he didn't feel capable of taking over anyone's job, even Sulu's, though he was more comfortable with the helm than any other station.

Young began leaving the conn to Kirk for several hours at a time. The first time he did it, Kirk nearly had a fit.

"Me?! You can't do that! I'm not in the chain of command. I have no status or authority on this ship whatsoever," Kirk protested adamantly.

"You do now. I just gave it to you. Sit here. Now. That's an order!"

Kirk glared at him for a long moment, then took the center seat. Young smiled.

"If you've read the regs manual, and I know you have, then you know I can do this. Have fun! I'll be in my office."

And he left the Bridge. Kirk sighed and settled himself in the chair.

"Okay, listen up everybody. You know and I know that I don't know diddleysquat about running this ship. Yes, the regs say he can do this. And if I mess up, he gets the ax, and so do I. But that's not the point. What bothers me is that if I mess up, 430 people could die. So if you see me doing something stupid, say so. Don't just blindly obey orders. All right?"

He received affirmatives from each of the Bridge crew. But he wasn't very reassured. He could tell they didn't really think he would do something stupid. But nothing earth-shattering occurred, and Young returned a few hours later. Thereafter, he took to doing the same thing every day, though not at the same time of day.

Kirk understood that Young's purpose was to help him overcome his fear of the captain's job. But it wasn't working. He sat in the center seat a few hours each day, but the fear did not dissipate. He knew enough to know how much he didn't know. He wouldn't be qualified for this job in two weeks, two months, or even two years. Not without his memory, and he wasn't willing to risk Spock's life to get it back.

If they would bust him back to Ensign, and let him work his way up, he would do it. There was nothing else he wanted to do with his life. But given his age, he didn't know if they would let him. If not, he'd probably have to take an early retirement on a medical discharge. And then try to find something to do with his life that wasn't too boring. He would rather have gone back to Konti and Koh.

Meanwhile, even though the task was hopeless, he would continue to learn all he could. He needed more practice at navigation. He couldn't calculate their course in his head the way Chekov and Sulu could. He could read the science sensors, but interpreting what they meant was another matter entirely. And he hadn't spent nearly enough time in Engineering. He had only a vague idea of what all went on down there.

A few days later, they received word that Spock and McCoy were en route, and should arrive in approximately three days. Kirk was glad. He presumed that meant Spock now had functioning eyes, though the message hadn't said so specifically. About 0200 the night before they were due, the Red Alert siren went off.

Kirk's body knew what it meant. He was instantly awake. Before his mind could register what the sound was and what it meant, he was dressed and headed out the door on his way to the Bridge. He met Sulu and Uhura at the lift. Neither had any idea what was going on. Sulu thought Chekov was taking the conn third shift that night.

The lift deposited them on the Bridge. Kirk hung back and let the others precede him. Chekov was indeed in the center seat. Sulu and Uhura took their stations. Chekov stood up to let Kirk take the center seat, but Kirk shook his head and gestured Chekov to remain. Young was nowhere in sight. Chekov informed the new arrivals of the situation.

"Ve have an unidentified wessel crossing the Neutral Zone. Ve have altered course to intercept."

"How big a vessel?" asked Kirk.

"Sensors indicate scout-class. Possibly a smuggler, possibly a spy."

"Any attempt at communication?" Kirk continued.

"Hailing now, sir. No response," Uhura reported.

Lt. Martin at the science station volunteered, "Sensors indicate vessel is standard Klingon manufacture. Ion trail shows origin the Klingon Empire, sir."

"How heavy is she shielded? Weapons?" Kirk continued to ask questions.

"Minimal weapons, sir. Two photon torpedoes, and Class-2 phaser banks. Shields wouldn't hold against our fire for more than a few minutes."

"Uhura, can you punch through and get me any intra-ship communications? Put it on speakers."

"I'll try, Captain."

A few moments later, the Bridge speakers crackled with static. Then faint and slightly garbled, Kirk heard snatches of a conversation in Klingon. After two minutes, it was drowned in static.

"Sorry, sir. I can't get it back." Uhura paused. "Are they friends of yours?"

Kirk smiled grimly. "No. I have met Kadat and he's no friend. He could be a spy or a smuggler, or both." He turned to Chekov. "But I think I can send him back to the Empire without having to kill him, if you permit."

"Without danger to yourself or the _Enterprise_?" Chekov had seen plenty of Kirk's solutions, but seldom did he pull something without risk to himself, if not all of them.

"No danger to the _Enterprise_. The only danger to me is that he might recognize my voice. He would then know that I am not dead as was supposed."

At this moment Young walked in.

"Status report, please."

Chekov vacated the center seat and Young sat down. As he moved to take the navigator's station, Chekov summarized the situation concisely, ending with Kirk's proposal. Young turned a thoughtful smile on Kirk.

"Please proceed."

Kirk moved to the comm station and at Uhura's nod, spoke a rapid stream of Klingon which only she understood. The reaction from the Klingons was not verbal, but it was almost instantaneous.

"They're accelerating straight for us!" Sulu reported.

"Trying to ram us!" Chekov added.

"Reactor building to overload, sir," Martin warned.

"Suicide mission!" Chekov concluded.

"Sulu, evasive!" Young jammed a finger on the intercom. "Transporter room! Lock onto the occupants of that vessel."

Kirk just stared at the screen in shocked horror. Caught off balance by Sulu's tactics, Kirk was thrown to the deck when the Klingon vessel exploded. To his chagrin, no one else lost their seat. Hopefully that meant damage was minimal. As he climbed to his feet, he listened carefully to the reports of Uhura and Martin. No casualties. Slight damage to Decks 11 and 12. No damage to engines or engineering hull. Kirk breathed a sigh of relief.

"I've got them, sir!" reported the transporter room.

"Security detail to the transporter room, on the double. Kirk, Uhura, with me. Sulu, you have the conn."

Young headed to the lift, followed by Kirk and Uhura. Sulu and Chekov began the usual clean-up procedures.

As they worked, Sulu asked Chekov a low-voiced question. "Did Captain Young call in before we got here?"

"Yes, he did. I gave him a run-down. I think he vas in his quarters. All he said vas to let Kirk take charge if he vould."

"So, he delayed his arrival on purpose."

"Looks that vay."

"He could get in trouble for doing that."

"Who's going to report it?"

"Not me."

They grinned.

xxxx

Kirk was silent and kept his eyes on the floor of the lift.

Young looked at Kirk, then Uhura. "Mind telling me what he told them?"

"It wasn't Captain Kirk's fault, sir. All he said was that if they didn't return to Klingon space, he would report them to their high command."

"I spoke to Kadat by name. I called him a blundering idiot."

"That's standard Klingon culture, sir," interrupted Uhura.

"I thought that if he heard an obviously Klingon voice coming from a Federation vessel, he would be puzzled enough to retreat until he checked with his superior. I was wrong. I should have known better. There's only one solution to his kind of trouble. But I didn't want to kill him."

"Kirk, look at me. I wouldn't have killed him either. Stop second-guessing yourself."

As the lift deposited them on deck 9, they heard the distinct sound of phaser fire. Without a word, they dashed for the transporter room. Upon entering, they saw one Klingon body on the deck.

"Report!" barked Young.

The security chief came to attention.

"Sir. Three Klingons materialized on the pad a few moments ago. Two of them dashed forward as if to attack us. We downed them with phasers set on stun. Then the third," he gestured at the prone figure, "pulled out a disruptor and blasted his companions to smithereens. We then downed him with phasers as well."

"Is he alive?"

"Haven't checked, sir."

"Call a medic," Young ordered the transporter technician. To Kirk, "Do you know him?"

Kirk approached cautiously and turned the body over with his foot.

"Yes. It's Kadat. And he's breathing."

The doctor arrived, checked Kadat over, announced he would wake within the hour with a splitting headache, and departed. Young ordered Kadat taken to the brig under a double guard.

"Kirk, I want to see you in my office first thing in the morning."

Returning to his quarters thoroughly depressed, Kirk spent the remainder of the night in self-recrimination. His face was haggard when he entered Young's office at 0700.

Young took one look, and read him the riot act. "Kirk, you look like death warmed over! You've got to snap out of it! Frankly, I don't care what you think of your performance of last night. I need you functional today! Regardless of your status aboard this ship, you're my resident expert on the Klingons. I need 110% effort out of you, and forget the self-condemnation. Is that clear?"

Kirk straightened to attention, and responded with a stoney-faced stare.

"Yes, sir."

Young drew a hand over his face and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Kirk. Sit down. I just can't stand to watch you let it tear you apart."

"Your rebuke is thoroughly deserved. And the fact that I needed to be told proves my point, that I am not qualified to captain this ship. But I will lay that issue aside for the present. What do you want of me this morning?"

"Tell me about Kadat."

So Kirk gave him a blow-by-blow description of his first encounter with Kadat.

"Do you think Kadat carries a grudge against you?"

"Possibly. Just as possible the whole thing was a test to see what I would do."

"So, what do you think he's doing here?"

"I no longer think smuggling fits the evidence. He would not have tried to destroy us. That leaves a clandestine mission of some kind, probably with government backing. I cannot rule out the possibility that he was specifically sent to destroy the _Enterprise_, though if he knew I was here, then Konti talked. It is also possible that he still hopes to accomplish his mission, whatever it is. Otherwise, why not kill himself at the same time as he killed his companions?"

"Maybe he didn't get a chance."

"Possibly. But that brings up another point. He should be thoroughly examined for suicide devices, assuming he hasn't already used one. Not to mention, personal weapons disguised as clothing. Of one thing I am certain: Kadat is very smart."

Young called Security and Sickbay to set up a thorough examination.

"Once they're done with that, I'd like you to take charge of interrogating the prisoner. And I wouldn't mind if he got the impression that you're running this ship, so don't be in any hurry to tell him you're not."

"Why the deception?"

"My impression is that Klingons respect strength and very little else. I think he's more likely to be honest with you as Captain of the _Enterprise_, than as Kirk, officer without status or position."

"Maybe. All right, we have nothing to lose."

xxxx

Two hours later, Kirk entered Kadat's cell. Young and Uhura were watching and listening by camera. Security had found three different devices in Kadat's clothing. So they had simply stripped him and clothed him in a prison jumpsuit instead. Sickbay had found and removed two suicide devices, one transmitter, and one electronic device of unknown purpose. Kirk spoke in Klingon.

"Get up, Kadat. And behave yourself unless you want another phaser headache."

Kadat slowly stood up and faced Kirk, who was unarmed. On the other side of the force field doorway, two guards with drawn phasers watched in silent readiness.

"What are you doing here?" Kirk asked the same question Kadat had asked him months previously.

"I could kill you with my bare hands before they could stop me."

"You could, but you won't."

"Your guards don't react. Why not?"

"Simple. They don't speak Klingon. So, talk to me."

Kadat looked at the hidden camera.

"There's no such thing as privacy. Talk anyway," Kirk demanded.

Kadat licked his lips as if reluctant to divulge anything. "Certain members of my government are aware that you are alive. I do not know how they came by this knowledge. My instructions were to find and destroy the _Enterprise_ and you with it."

"The _Enterprise_ because that's where I am, or me because I happen to be on the _Enterprise_?"

"The target was you." Kadat bared his teeth in a mockery of a grin. "The _Enterprise_ only an added benefit."

Kirk shook his head. "Sorry, Kadat. It doesn't adequately explain the facts. You'll have to do better than that."

"What have I not explained? Our mission was to kill you. How can I be more plain than that?"

"You are not stupid enough to believe that the tactic you pulled last night would have succeeded in destroying the _Enterprise_. The only logical reason for killing your companions is to prevent them from talking. Furthermore, if your mission were to kill me, you would have tried to do so as soon as I walked in here, guards not withstanding. Lastly, I very much doubt that you have fallen sufficiently out of favor as to be assigned a suicide mission. So, start over, and this time, tell me the truth."

Kadat shrugged as if it didn't really matter. "Actually, I received several sets of instructions, one of which was to kill you. Certain ones are embarrassed by your escape."

"They needn't be. I was just as fooled as everyone else. And, the snake monster did indeed have the power he claimed. Nonetheless, you mentioned other instructions."

"Yes. My two crewmen knew nothing. I pumped them full of drugs which put them in a killing frenzy. I directed that frenzy toward their suicide actions. You responded exactly as I predicted. Once aboard the _Enterprise_, I killed them because their usefulness was ended. The drugs would have killed them anyway, but more slowly and painfully. Those who told me to kill you will know that my vessel self-destructed. It may take them a short time to discover that the mission failed, but they will assume I and my crewmen are dead." Kadat bared his teeth before continuing.

"I presume you are aware there are several different factions among the high officials of my government. Part of my usefulness is that none of those factions know for sure whose side I'm on. All sides want to use me; no one trusts me. So while representing none, I am privy to what each is trying to do."

He raised three fingers in a pseudo-lecture mode. "One faction is negotiating with the Romulans to mount a joint offensive against the Federation. Another is planning to defeat the Romulans first, and then attack the Federation. A third group wishes to avoid war altogether." Dropping the pose, he gave Kirk a sly look. "Strangely, that idea is more popular than you might think. Many feel that we would do well to fortify our strength before taking on major conquests. An interesting side note: Kezak has managed to sell your obstacle course to the third faction for use in training recruits."

"Get to the point," Kirk barked impatiently.

Kadat shrugged. "The first faction wants you dead. The second wants both of us dead. The third wants me to negotiate with you to intervene in the situation to stop the war. I realize you have no reason to trust me, and it galls me to have to ask for your help, but I am doing it anyway. Your position as regards war is well-known. I'm hoping you can't pass up this opportunity." The sly look made another appearance.

"What do you expect me to do?" Kirk let his irritation show.

"There is a secret conference scheduled for next week. The second faction plans to launch their attack while the first is trying to cement ties with the Romulans. The third is hoping you will appear on the scene, thwart the attack of the second faction, and sufficiently discourage the first faction and the Romulans from any joint effort against the Federation."

"Just how am I supposed to accomplish all that?" Kirk retorted.

"You and your ship are known for being quite resourceful. I would supply you with certain information, such as the location of the conference, the identity of members of each faction, and what I know of the details of the plan of attack. Naturally I would desire to remain anonymous as your source of information."

"Plans can change a great deal in a week."

"One of the devices taken from my person was to enable me to obtain updated information. If it has not been tampered with, it should still be functional."

Kirk shook his head. "Why should I believe any of this? It is just as likely to be a trap."

"That issue was the subject of more than one conversation. On the one hand, you could decide based only on your gut feel. Your instincts are usually right. On the other hand, I could provide you with certain facts that only your friends know, such as the location and origin of a certain scar. But that same friend told me that you would not be convinced by such a revelation, since I could have obtained it by sending him to the mindsifter."

Kirk did not react to this suggestion, though the idea had already occurred to him.

Kadat drew himself tall. "I know of only one way to offer you conclusive proof. I will submit to a mind probe by your Vulcan."

"You must be very sure of yourself. When exactly does this conference start?"

"In five days."

"I will consider and consult. Meanwhile, I trust the room service is adequate."

Kirk turned his back on Kadat, signaled the guard, and stepped out of the cell. He went straight to the monitoring room to report to Young.

"Kadat's not the only one who's very sure of himself. How did you know he wouldn't kill you?" Young asked.

"I didn't. In fact, he knows I was giving him ample opportunity to do just that."

"Uhura, if you're finished, let's adjourn to Briefing Room 3."

"Yes, sir. Transcript completed and logged."

They reconvened in the briefing room.

"Here's a line-by-line translation, sir." To Kirk, "I summarized orally as we went, so Josh knows basically what was said. If you would take a moment to review and initial the translation, the file will be complete."

Kirk and Young both read the translated transcript swiftly.

"Looks good to me," Kirk signed off on the file.

"So," Young began, "Do you believe him?"

"I believe what he said is probably true, as far as it goes. Whether it's the whole truth, I very much doubt. How much experience has Spock had with Klingons? Would he take on the likes of Kadat? And could he find the deception?"

"I don't know. Uhura, what is Spock's ETA?"

She called the Bridge for an update.

"He's due in just 20 minutes."

"Excellent. We'll reconvene at 1300. I'll ask Spock to join us."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The transporter room seemed crowded as various members of the crew found reasons to be absent from their work. Kirk was a little surprised that Spock was this popular. Or maybe they were here to see McCoy. In any event, he stood at the back and watched the crowd. Young was in the middle of it all, smiling. Uhura, Chekov, Sulu, even Scotty, were all there, as well as people from Science and Medical. But also crew from Engineering and Security.

As the crowd surged forward to greet the newcomers, Kirk didn't think they were there to gawk. They genuinely liked Spock. Well, why was that strange? He liked Spock too. He was startled by his first glimpse. He had grown so accustomed to the disfigurement that having it replaced by seeing eyes was quite a shock. But McCoy had done a wonderful job: not a scar in sight.

Spock greeted everyone warmly, reported briefly to Young, and then began searching the room for the one missing face. Finding Kirk near the door, he excused himself and walked straight towards Kirk.

"Hello, Spock. Quite a welcoming committee," Kirk greeted him quietly.

"They are happy for me." Spock gave him a penetrating look. "Jim, I must speak with you in private at your earliest convenience."

"I have no commitments until 1300. Shall I come to your quarters in an hour?"

"Now would be better, if you don't mind, and your quarters would be more comfortable."

"Suit yourself."

They left the transporter room and walked to the lift in silence. More than one person who saw them go sighed in relief. The universal opinion was that Spock would fix what was wrong with the Captain.

Inside the lift, Kirk stared openly at Spock's face, with his head cocked in appraisal.

"Do you object to the Doctor's handiwork?"

"No, no, it's great! I like you better with eyes than without. I was just reflecting that after that first day, I never thought of you as blind. You didn't seem at all handicapped by it."

"I had had eight months of practice by then."

They left the lift and proceeded to Kirk's quarters.

"I am very grateful for the eyes, though I mourn the loss of the one who gave them to me."

"Did you know him well?" Kirk asked.

"I did not know her at all. A distant relative of my father's, she was a young woman with a very rare disease. When they told her about me, she hung onto life for weeks, hoping I would get there in time. She died less than a day after the surgery was complete."

"They took her eyes before she died?!"

"It was necessary; but that is not what I wish to discuss with you. Not that I object to sharing my experience with you, but it does not require the privacy I requested."

Spock continued without pause. "Shortly before leaving Vulcan, I visited three different healers, trained in restoring damaged minds. They each separately came to the same conclusion. I told them what I had done to you, and what I subsequently did to myself in order to guard your memories. They each said they could not help us, that it could not be safely done, that they would not participate in an action that would surely kill you, me, and them.

"So, there is no point in your going to Vulcan. What we do can as easily be done here. I have not discussed it with Dr. McCoy, but I am certain he will agree to help. Possibly as early as this evening, if schedules permit."

"Spock! They said it can't be done, and you want to do it anyway? No!" Kirk stepped away in agitation before turning back to restate his position. "I won't let you! I'm surviving. I don't need those memories that bad!"

Spock sighed deeply. "Very well, Captain. I am sorry."

"Don't call me 'Captain'. I can't be captain. The only reason I'm still wearing this uniform is that I can't convince the computer that I'm not a captain." He plucked at the insignia on his uniform as if he could make it disappear.

"You retain the rank until Starfleet says otherwise," Spock pointed out quietly.

Kirk was irritated with himself for taking out his frustration on Spock, but not badly enough to stop doing it. "I wish they'd hurry up. I don't suppose you can file a report that will help them make up their minds."

"Perhaps. How do you wish me to address you?" Spock gave no sign of discomfort at being the target of Kirk's annoyance.

"I don't know. Jim is fine; Kirk is okay. But 'Captain' just doesn't fit. I've tried hard these past weeks. Everyone has bent over backwards to help, even Young. They all want badly for me to succeed, but I can't do it." Kirk spread his hands helplessly.

"What has convinced you that it is impossible?" Spock probed.

Kirk shared the encounter with the Klingons of the previous night. When he was finished, Spock looked thoughtful.

"You are concerned because you are the only one who fell?"

"No, that's of no consequence, except as it conveys the state of my mind. I was shocked and immobilized. If it had depended on me, we would all have died."

"Jim, are you afraid of the Captain's job?" Spock dared to ask.

"I'm afraid for the 430 lives aboard this ship. Now that McCoy is back, I'll get him to declare me unfit to command. That plus your report ought to do it."

"Is there something else you would rather do with your life in the future?"

"Spock, there's nothing I'd rather do than captain this ship. But it's just not doable. So I will find something else to do with my life. Maybe I could arrange to get killed by the Klingons. That at least wouldn't be boring. What I'd really like to do is start over as an ensign, or even a cadet, and work my way back up to captain. But I doubt they'll let me. I'm too old; they'd say it wasn't worth their time and money."

"Jim, I want to help you in any way I can. If you change your mind, I will always be willing to try to give you back your memories," Spock reiterated earnestly.

"Thank you, Spock, but I won't change my mind," Kirk declared.

xxxx

The meeting at 1300 was brief. Spock immediately agreed to probe Kadat's mind, though he had never melded with a Klingon before. He asked only for an hour in which to pray. Continuing the deception, Kirk accompanied Spock to Kadat's cell, while Young stayed out of sight.

"Kadat, Spock has consented to probe your mind, if you are still willing."

Kadat sat up and nodded, though he looked somewhat apprehensive. Kirk chuckled.

"Relax, Kadat. This is nothing like as bad as the mindsifter, and I've had occasion to be acquainted with both. Though I must warn you. There are no secrets in a mind meld."

Kirk had been speaking in Klingon. Spock spoke in Standard.

"Do you consent to the invasion of your mind for the purpose of determining the truth of your report to Captain Kirk?"

"I do."

"Please stand. Have you ever participated in a mind-meld before?"

"No."

"You do not have to do anything. You may wish to close your eyes as I put my hand on your face. It will be easier for you if you can accept my presence in your mind. The procedure will take less than ten minutes. Do you have questions?"

"None."

Without further delay, Spock placed his hand on Kadat's face. A moment later, he was flung backwards, colliding with the force field. As sparks flew from the doorway, Spock bounced off the field and landed in a heap at Kirk's feet. Kirk stared at Kadat.

"What did you do to him?"

"I didn't do anything! He touched me, and suddenly he was gone. That's all!"

"If he dies..." Kirk did not finish the threat.

He stooped to examine Spock. To Kirk's relief, he appeared to be breathing normally. In a few moments, McCoy arrived. The guard turned off the force field, and McCoy ran a scanner over Spock.

"I think he'll be okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Spock opened his eyes and sat up. "My apologies, Captain. An element I did not foresee."

"What happened?" asked Kirk as he helped Spock to his feet.

"It is nothing Kadat consciously did. The level of violence in his mind is so strong that it physically repelled me. I shall have to take steps to prevent a recurrence."

"You're going to do it again?!" Kirk tried not to sound appalled.

"Yes." Spock's tone was matter-of-fact.

"I better hang around," volunteered McCoy. "He may need CPR the next time."

Spock ignored McCoy's grim humor.

"Kadat, if you would be so good as to step this way."

Spock backed into the far corner and Kadat followed him.

"Now," Spock continued, "Captain, you can assist me, if you would. Place one hand on my wrist, and the other on the back of Kadat's head. Do not release us until I tell you to."

Kirk decided it would not do to argue with Spock in front of Kadat, so he moved to comply, trying to act as if this were perfectly normal behavior. McCoy kept his opinions to himself. Perhaps he too was constrained by the audience.

This time, Spock's body took on a rigidity as he fought with the violence of Kadat's mind. Kirk didn't think Spock really needed his help, because he felt no resistance, no attempt by Spock to pull away. Nonetheless, he held his position, even after his muscles started cramping. After what seemed like considerably more than ten minutes, Spock called a halt.

"Enough, Captain. Thank you."

Kirk released them. Kadat opened his eyes, took a deep breath, stared at Spock for a moment, and turned away in silence. Spock unglued himself from the corner, and without words, managed to convey that he wished to talk elsewhere. McCoy surreptitiously ran the scanner on Spock, looked at the results, and nodded at Kirk.

"All right, Kadat, I'll get back to you."

The three of them left the brig. Young and Uhura joined them in the briefing room. McCoy excused himself with Young's blessing. Young gave Spock the floor. His report contained nothing of the effort he had expended in getting the information.

"Kadat is by nature a very violent person. Any civilized behavior is a veneer; the core is barbaric. However, he is also devious, deceitful, and very smart. He is amused because he managed to convince you that he was afraid of me. He did not, in fact, fear the encounter, though I think perhaps it was not exactly as he had envisioned it. He had no purpose for this deceit, other than to prove he could.

"Nonetheless, what he has told you about the upcoming conference between the Klingons and Romulans is correct. However, do not assume that he sides with Faction 3. He may switch sides at any time without warning. Nor does he himself know when or if he will do so.

"The only thread of continuity in his decision-making process is the desire for chaos. But his thinking is so convoluted that his conclusions may well appear to be contrary to that goal. For the moment, it suits him to try to draw you into the conflict, though his reasoning process would be difficult to describe.

"One other thing: Konti will be at this conference. Among the Faction 1 delegation, he is actually of Faction 3. He is near the top of Faction 2's hit list. Interestingly, Kadat's knowledge of the scar on Konti's belly differs slightly from what you told us. Konti told him that you inflicted that wound in Koh's lab, and it was your reaction to that encounter that inspired the beating."

"Close to the truth, but not quite. So Konti is sending me a message. He wanted me to know about this conference, but not to trust the messenger. A dangerous game he's playing, but I shouldn't be surprised."

Kirk looked at Young, who had been silently listening.

"If you were running this ship, Kirk, what would you do now?"

Kirk closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. Then he looked straight at Young.

"I would report the whole thing, along with my recommendation that the Federation stay out of it. If we do nothing, the Klingons and Romulans will kill each other off, will never cement an alliance, and the Federation will have weaker foes as a result."

"But that is not what you personally want to do."

"Of course not. Konti is my friend. Were I a free agent, I would go to his aid. But I would go alone. Or perhaps I would take Kadat with me."

Uhura muttered, "Sounds like a recipe for disaster - a sure-fire way to get killed."

"Possibly." Kirk smiled grimly, and avoided Spock's gaze.

"Spock," Young inquired, "What is your recommendation?"

"I am not at all certain that Starfleet will advocate staying out of it. The situation is very sensitive, extremely volatile, and the outcome vitally important. It is just such situations that _Enterprise_ has been sent into frequently in the past. But I do not know if they will send Captain Kirk without his memory. And you, sir, have had little experience with such as this."

"And what, if I may ask, is the status of Captain Kirk's memory?"

"The Vulcan healers say it cannot be done safely. Therefore Captain Kirk refuses to permit me to make the attempt."

"I see. Sounds like we need to take this before the Lord. All right if I pray for us?"

Getting affirmatives, he prayed briefly, asking for wisdom, clear direction from Starfleet, peace and joy to be in their hearts, and protection from the enemy's devices in their midst.

Kirk felt the Lord's peace descend on his heart as Young prayed. He'd felt little peace and much turmoil these last days. While with the Klingons, grace had abounded; peace and joy had been easy. Perhaps because there had been few decisions. Now, it seemed like every decision he made was the wrong one.

But this decision he would make anew, right now. He would trust the Lord, and he would obey what the Lord told him to do. And that meant anything and everything: Konti's life, Spock's life, all the lives aboard this vessel, his own future.

xxxx

During the next 48 hours, many messages were sent back and forth between Starfleet and _Enterprise_. But Kirk was oblivious to all this communication. He spent most of those hours taking tests of various kinds. McCoy put him through a complete battery of tests: physical, mental, and emotional. In addition, Spock grilled him for hours upon hours.

Spock easily found the holes in Kirk's knowledge. But there were fewer than Kirk had expected. The weeks of study had had an effect. He did not try to hide his ignorance. Having committed the results to the Lord, he was free to simply enjoy the tests. And he did.

He knew they were driving him to exhaustion. Spock had told him so. Neither of them believed it necessary or even doable in the time they had, but they were not going to argue with Starfleet. Besides, it gave them an excuse to stay up all night talking, two nights in a row.

Kirk's favorite test was when Spock would outline a situation and ask him for his solution to the problem. Kirk guessed that Spock was using events that had really happened to them. A few were so bizarre that he burst out laughing. And he wondered how close his answers matched what he had really done. But Spock admitted nothing.

Late morning of the second day, Kirk was in McCoy's office. It didn't feel like another test. Rather, more like a confidential chat. That didn't mean it wasn't a test.

"Well, Jim, how do you feel about having to relearn all this stuff?"

Kirk grinned. "I like Sulu's games on the simulator."

"Any frustration, about any of it?"

"Only that I can't possibly do it fast enough. I'm not wasting energy on 'if only's, if that's what you're getting at."

McCoy shook his head. "It isn't. From what I can tell, your abilities are all intact, and yet, we're insisting you retrain on every piece of equipment on the ship."

"I'm in full agreement with that policy, Bones. I piloted Konti's flitter without crashing it, but I didn't _know_ I could do that. A captain has to know what he can do without having to guess."

McCoy nodded and sat back in the chair. "So what do you want me to do? Declare you fit to command, or unfit?"

"Bones, I'm not going to answer that. I want you to use your best judgment without regard for what I want. Two days ago, I decided to entrust the whole thing to the Lord, so I've stopped worrying about it, even trying to figure out what I want. It's been very freeing. Lots more peace in my soul."

"Glory Hallelujah! Thank you, Jesus!" McCoy enthused. "I don't think Spock's finished yet, but I'm done. You don't have to come back here. I'm not allowed to tell you my findings before the hearing convenes," he told Kirk regretfully.

"I don't mind. I do have a question, though, if you can spare a few minutes."

"Sure. Doesn't mean I'll have an answer, but I'll certainly listen."

"It's about Spock's eye surgery. I haven't wanted to distract him, but he said something that puzzles me. He said they took the woman's eyes while she was still alive - that it was necessary. Why?"

McCoy sighed. "To call her a woman is a bit of a stretch. She was 14 years old. Somehow it always seems more tragic when they die young. She had a very rare disease that only Vulcans get, and very few of them at that, thank God. It's always fatal, generally a lingering death - slow and painful. Spock is immune because he's half-human; that was one of the first things I checked.

"Anyway, to answer your question: human eyes can be frozen and saved up to a year after the donor has died. Not so with Vulcans. The donor must be alive when the eye is taken, and it must be implanted in the recipient within two hours of its removal."

He shook his head at the memory. "Craziest surgery I've ever done. The three of us, Spock, T'Lori and I, had been cooped up together in the isolation unit for five days. The drugs I was pumping into Spock made him vulnerable to any virus or bacteria out there. Things got pretty open between us. Before we were done, Spock led her to the Lord. He even had her laughing with delight at some of his stories. Several times a day, he took some of her pain, so by the time we were ready for surgery, she was stronger than when we got there. Which was a good thing; she wouldn't have survived it otherwise.

"Because of the isolation, I had to do both surgeries myself. Couldn't risk bringing anyone else in. Also, no nurse or technician; just me, and the two of them. Normally they just do one eye, or if they're going to do both, they wait to see if the first is rejected before doing the second. But we didn't have time for that. So we did both at once.

"We put the two beds right up next to each other. Spock sat on his bed, with one hand maintaining mental contact with T'Lori, and with the other, he's handing me tools. Also, we're keeping up a running three-way conversation, mostly about the surgery, because T'Lori was curious. That's the first half." McCoy paused, but Kirk was still avidly listening, so he finished the story as quickly as possible.

"Second half was basically the same, except Spock was lying down. I told him I couldn't do it sitting up. Gravity was agin' it. So he's lying there, handing me tools, talking, and taking all of her pain, as well as his own.

"Seems her one remaining desire was to see the world through his eyes that had been hers. She was wildly ecstatic when Spock first opened his new eyes. It was quite something. Neither of them paid any attention to me after that. There was still several hours worth of cosmetic work to be done. By the time I was finished, I was pretty well exhausted. I always get that way with eye surgeries. But they were so happy, the joy lasted for hours."

McCoy admitted ruefully, "I fell asleep; had intended to check on them every couple of hours. But I slept for seven. When I woke, Spock was fine. Said he would have waked me if there was need. T'Lori was gone within hours. Spock insisted it was not the surgery that had killed her, but the disease. Her mission accomplished, her soul at peace, her spirit alive to the Lord, she died peacefully.

"Spock took her katra to Mount Seleya. They had agreed her family would want that. Though he couldn't do it for several weeks, til it was safe to let him out of isolation. Do you have any idea what it's like to live in close quarters with a Vulcan for weeks on end?! Never mind, dumb question. Anyway that was a pretty long answer to a short question. You better scoot or Spock will wonder what happened to you."

Kirk grinned. "Thanks, Bones. See ya'."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The hearing was held on the Rec Deck. Kirk said he didn't mind an audience, if Spock and Bones didn't. The judges said it was entirely up to him. Seeing no alarm in McCoy's eyes, Kirk opted for the audience. He knew the whole ship was interested in the outcome. The hearing was being held via subspace radio due to the time constraints.

Kirk was given time for a meal and a shower, but no sleep. Thanks to his stay with the Klingons, he was by no means completely exhausted. Entering the Rec Deck, he found the place packed with people. He made his way slowly through all the well-wishers, smiling and shaking hands with confidence - a confidence based in his trust of the Lord. He had no clue what the outcome of this hearing would be.

Kirk took the chair placed for him. To his right was the big screen. On it were displayed images of three men, none of whom Kirk recognized. Dressed as admirals, they were, without doubt, the judges. Directly across from him Young sat at a small table. To Kirk's left, there was a podium facing the screen. Spock and McCoy were in the first row of the audience. Young stood and faced the audience.

"All rise, please."

Kirk stood with the rest.

"Because this hearing is being held via subspace radio, I have been asked to administrate this meeting. Captain Kirk has consented to the presence of an audience. However, if the judges find it necessary, they will have the audience removed. The judges may ask for testimony from anyone on this ship. However, they may not, too. If you are asked to give testimony, you are to answer directly the question or questions being asked. You may not volunteer opinions. Also, this is neither a sports event nor a theater. Disruptive behavior will be summarily dealt with. You may be seated."

Young turned to Kirk, who had remained standing.

"Captain Kirk, this is not a trial. The decision of the judges is final. There is no appeal process. The purpose of this hearing is two-fold. First, to determine whether you should retain the rank of Captain, which is under question due to your recent mental injury. Secondly, if the judges find that you should retain the rank of Captain, they would also like to settle the question of whether you should be given command of the _Enterprise_. Further, you are to understand that the reason for haste in these matters is the report of the recently captured Klingon still aboard this vessel.

"Lastly, as part of this hearing, the judges may ask you some questions. If your answers are in any way affected by the presence of this audience, you are to tell me, and I will have the audience removed. Any questions?"

"None, sir."

"You may be seated. To introduce the judges panel: top left on the screen is Admiral Jorge Perón; top right is Admiral Benjamin Ropier; bottom right is Admiral John Tacey. All of these gentlemen have met you before and have some personal knowledge of your character.

"Dr. McCoy, please come to the podium. Your report is first."

"Gentlemen, you have my written report in front of you. Permit me to summarize. Physically, there is nothing wrong with Captain Kirk, other than a myriad of scars on his skin. The scars do not hinder him in any way, and their removal would be for cosmetic reasons, except for the brand on his forehead, which may become prudent to remove for political reasons."

Tacey interrupted him. "Can it be removed, then?"

"I think so, yes. Depends how deep the scar is, and how much time I have to mess with it. Couldn't be done in one day, but eventually, yes. Might have to remove the entire skin area, and start from scratch. Not to be undertaken lightly, mind you, but it could be done."

"How long would it take?"

"Can't predict. But it certainly cannot be done in time for this current crisis. I could cover it up, but a close examination would discover the deceit. If it were up to me, I'd let Kirk decide what to do about the brand.

"That brings me to the second point: his mental condition. There's nothing wrong with his thinking processes. His scores on all tests were as good or better than previously. What's wrong is that he's missing 30 years of memory. That means knowledge, skills, and experience. The knowledge and skills can be relearned, and he's doing that. Experience is more difficult, but I'd think even that could be relearned by studying the logs of the last 20 years."

"How long would that take?" This question was from Ropier.

"I don't know. Spock could probably give you some kind of an estimate. I do know that Jim's been driving himself almost as hard as Spock would, for weeks now. Spock's report will tell you how much progress he's made so far.

"My next point concerns his emotional condition. Gentlemen, this man is as stable as a rock. I gave him every stress test this ship has the facilities to administer. I even subjected him to some of that torture affectionately known as 'command conditioning'. Nothing I did caused him any emotional distress. He was curious, occasionally surprised, frequently amused; never apprehensive, nervous, angry, or even annoyed.

"My last point concerns his stamina and endurance. As requested, we have done our best to exhaust him. He's had no sleep for the past three days. He's been taking tests non-stop for over 48 hours. We occasionally let him eat a meal, or part of one. Not one word of complaint; he's been unfailingly cheerful. Further, test scores did not show any material difference due to lack of sleep.

"So, gentlemen, you wanted to see what he looked like when he was exhausted. Take a good look."

He gestured at Kirk, who was listening attentively, with no visible sign of exhaustion.

"Jim!" It was Perón. Kirk turned to look at the screen.

"I'm the one who ordered the exhaustion test. Are you mad at me?"

"No. Why should I be?"

"Are you exhausted?"

"Exhaustion's relative. I've been lots worse. I'm still functioning."

"What would it take to exhaust you?"

"About five days with no sleep, no food or water except through an IV, and some physically, mentally, and/or emotionally taxing activity."

"Is that what they did to you?"

"Not every week, but several times, yes."

"And what happens when you're exhausted?"

"Nothing very different. I'm more stubborn and obnoxious is all."

"Hmm, I see. Well, Dr. McCoy, what is your recommendation?"

"I think it would be a waste to retire this man. I think he can do it. I vote, 'Give him back his ship.' Any questions?"

Ropier spoke. "Even if he never recovers his memory?"

"I thought Spock had made it clear that recovering Kirk's memory isn't an option. It can't be done without killing both of them. That was the verdict of three different Vulcan healers. So yes, my recommendation is based on the assumption that he does not recover his memory."

With no further questions, McCoy sat down. Spock was called next.

"Gentlemen, I was asked to test Captain Kirk in two areas. First, his knowledge and skill level as regards ship operations and a variety of other subjects essential for a starship captain. I gave him the equivalent of a final exam in all subjects covered at the Academy, as well as some that aren't. He answered 61.7% of my questions correctly. However, he gave no incorrect answers. He knows what he doesn't know. Further, he correctly named the senior officer aboard this ship who does know the answer to each of the questions he was unable to answer.

"I also tested his skill level at each workstation on the Bridge. He performed adequately at all workstations, better than adequate at Communications, and outstanding at the Helm. Commander Uhura has informed me that his mastery of the Klingon language is superb.

"The second area of testing concerned his ability to make command decisions. Indeed, since this is such a critical issue, I spent 25.6 hours probing his responses to a myriad of situations. Though I never admitted it, he guessed that I was taking the situations from real events in our history together. He has no idea how closely his answers matched what he had actually done. When I discovered that 82.9% of his answers were an exact match, I thought it possible that I was somehow communicating the correct answers to him without being aware of doing it.

"For this reason, I have had the computer prepare a series of situations for further testing. These situations are hypothetical, rather than historical. I do not personally know either the questions or the answers. Lt. Martin has the data tape. I recommend the judges choose someone from this room at random to administer this test. Perhaps by row and seat number. I further recommend that the test be administered here and now in front of the audience and judges, so that you can observe how Captain Kirk responds to such pressure. Lastly, as a precaution, I will wear a device that cuts out sight and sound for the duration of the test, so that there is no possibility of my communicating answers to him."

The judges agreed to all of this. The randomly selected test administrator was a lab technician named Schreiber, whom Kirk did not know at all. Tanzer set her up with a terminal at the table next to Young. Spock donned a head device that looked very familiar to Kirk. When Schreiber began speaking, Kirk focused his entire attention on the test. For the duration, judges and audience did not exist.

An hour went by quickly. Perón called a halt even though there were two more scenarios to the test. He asked Schreiber to tally and score Kirk's answers. While she did, the judges conferred among themselves. She reported a 95% match with the computer's calculated answers.

"Somebody tell Spock to take off that sensory deprivation unit." Perón gave it its official name.

McCoy moved to comply. When Spock could see, he looked first at Kirk, who grinned but said nothing.

Perón continued. "Well, Spock, you've made your point quite thoroughly."

"Oh? What point is that?"

"There's nothing whatever wrong with Kirk's brain. He can think as fast under fire as he always has. His score is 95%."

"What did he miss?"

Schreiber explained the question and how Kirk's solution had differed from that of the computer. Spock was thoughtful for a moment.

"The computer does not believe in suicide. I shall have to program it to allow for situations in which that is the only logical solution. However, it comes as no surprise that Captain Kirk would choose death for himself in order to save the lives of his crew."

"So, what is your recommendation, Spock?"

He sighed. "Were I to base my recommendation on the results of these tests, the conclusion would be obvious. His test scores are phenomenal. The holes in his knowledge could be corrected in a matter of weeks, and compensated for until then. But a captain's job is much more than an ability to do well on tests, even ones designed to measure his ability as a captain.

"As you may know, I prefer to base my conclusions on scientific observations and logical reasoning. In this instance, I can do neither. I ask only that you remember that I am intimately acquainted with Jim Kirk's mind. I know, even more than he does, what he has lost. Most wounds heal over time, even if not without scars. This one does not. The agony of the aching void is as fresh now as it was the day I inflicted that wound.

"It doesn't show, but it does affect him. I believe that if you surveyed the crew, you would find that a vast majority would agree that the Captain is not quite himself, even if they cannot define precisely how. He is much less sure of himself, more inclined to conclude that he is wrong and the other person right. He is more compassionate, less likely to believe ill-intent from an opponent. He is much more comfortable when someone else is dictating the circumstances of his life. He has enjoyed these days of testing for several reasons, one of which is that there were no decisions to make.

"You may wonder how this can be, since his test scores showed a phenomenal ability to make command decisions. The difference is in the nature of the test. He knew that no one's life was at stake. As far as he was concerned, it was an elaborate and thoroughly enjoyable guessing game."

Spock drew himself even more erect than usual and stared straight ahead.

"In my opinion, Captain Kirk cannot adequately function as Captain of this vessel without the restoration of his memory. Though I am willing to spend as much time as permitted, I do not believe that my opinion will change, even after months of training."

Kirk could feel the hostility of the audience almost as a physical force. Didn't they understand how much it hurt Spock to have to say that? Even Bones muttered angrily at Spock as he sat down. Kirk decided he must find a way to make sure Spock knew that he himself was not angry with him for telling the truth.

Young was called next. The flavor of his report was similar to Spock's, though couched in more diplomatic terms. Kirk was surprised to discover the audience wasn't nearly as upset with Young as they had been with Spock. Did they assume Young would try to protect his own position? Among Kirk's many frustrations was that he did not understand how the crew thought.

When they were finished with Young, Perón turned to Kirk. "Captain Kirk, do you have anything to add?"

Kirk stood. "No, sir. I have not heard any testimony that I disagree with."

"How can you agree with both Spock and McCoy?!"

"Dr. McCoy didn't say _when_ you should give me back my ship. I am certainly not ready to retire. Perhaps in a few years, I can work my way back up to captain. If so, I would count it a rare privilege to again be given command of the _Enterprise_. But Spock is quite correct. In spite of the test scores, I am in no way capable of assuming the responsibilities of captain of this vessel, or any other."

Perón sighed. "All right. Thank you all for your time. The judges will render a decision within 24 hours. Meanwhile, I want a private conference to be held in one hour. The following people are to be present: Captains Young, Spock, and Kirk, and Dr. McCoy. Dismissed."

After ascertaining the location of the private conference, Kirk spent most of the next hour mingling with the crew, all of whom wanted to wish him well, many of whom thought he could still be their captain, and most of whom were angry with Spock. He could not change their opinion, but he assured them that he was not angry with Spock. That seemed to make no difference. More than one retorted, "You're never angry with Spock! That doesn't make it right!"

He discussed it with Young on the way to the briefing room. McCoy and Spock had left earlier.

"Josh, I don't understand why the crew are angry with Spock."

"Jim, they are extremely loyal. They would rather have you back in whatever condition you're in than see you demoted or put out to pasture. The only reason they put up with it last year is because you asked them to. Otherwise there'd have been mass mutiny. They love you that much, Jim."

"Don't they know I'd get us all killed sooner or later?"

"No, they don't. But even if they thought that, it wouldn't change anything."

"That's crazy!"

"Perhaps. But it's part of what makes _Enterprise_ special."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

When they entered the briefing room, McCoy was holding forth in a tirade which Spock was enduring in silence.

"Bones! Quiet down. Spock, are you all right?"

"Of course, Captain."

"They're all angry. Does no one understand you?" Kirk murmured.

"There are a few. But no one understands me the way you do."

A moment of silent eye contact told Kirk that Spock preferred McCoy's tirade to his sympathy. So he would be grateful if Kirk would keep his understanding to himself.

McCoy saw the silent communication and was irritated. He loved them both, so he never allowed it to become full-blown jealousy. But there were times when it was very annoying. So he continued his tirade.

"Why shouldn't we be angry? Those judges were all ready to give you back your ship after that computerized test. Then Spock had to blow it by telling them you thought of it as a game."

"How does telling the truth constitute 'blowing it'?"

"If he'd kept his mouth shut about the aching void that will never heal; he didn't have to say all that!" McCoy sputtered.

"You can't deny it's true." With effort, Kirk kept his voice moderated.

McCoy wasn't making any effort to do so. "What they don't know won't hurt you!"

"Bones! You're not seriously suggesting-"

"Gentlemen!" Young cut in. "Please! Sit down. Admiral Perón is waiting."

They sat. McCoy had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Captain Young, I included you in this meeting because as Captain, anything that occurs on the ship is your business. However, I really called this meeting to talk to the other three, so with your permission, I will ignore your presence."

"Certainly, sir."

Young turned the monitor to face the others. Perón continued.

"Dr. McCoy, how much do you know about this aching void that will never heal?"

"Nothing at all, sir. It's not detectable by any medical equipment, and Kirk didn't mention it." McCoy muttered to Kirk. "Now who's hiding things?"

Kirk's response was not whispered. "Bones, it's been so much a part of my life, I didn't think to mention it. I usually don't think about it at all."

"But it does affect you?" queried Perón.

"It's the lack of data that makes me unsure of myself. My recent experiences have made me less inclined to think evil of my adversary. I suppose the compassion could be a result of the constant pain of loss that I live with." He shrugged to make light of it, then continued.

"It's not a physical pain. Only rarely these days does it have an emotional component. It's just a fact of life. Roughly 100 times a day, I encounter something or someone that reminds me of the 30-year hole in my life."

"I thought you said you didn't think about it." This interruption was from McCoy.

"I don't think about the pain. If you lost an arm or leg, you would eventually get so that the lack felt normal, but for the rest of your life, you would be dealing with the lack. Not the best of analogies, but it'll have to do."

Perón continued. "And yet you don't want to retire. I should think a complete change would be a welcome relief."

"Avoidance of pain has never been a motivating force in my life. Given a choice, I will stay."

"Even if I bust you back to ensign?"

"Even if I have to clean bathrooms."

"You realize I would have to pull you off the _Enterprise_. You would probably end up on a starbase, rather than a vessel of any kind. Anywhere you go, people will know who you are, and pity you. And the chances of you making captain and getting reposted to the _Enterprise_, slim to non-existent."

"I understand all that. Doesn't change my decision," Kirk insisted.

"Jim, what am I going to do without you? I've been limping along for the past year, hoping the paranoid stupidity of certain colleagues hadn't lost you for good. Now I have a situation that really needs a Jim Kirk, and I haven't got one. There's one or two promising hopefuls, but nobody with your experience, your reputation, your ability to pull victory from the ashes of defeat. Jim, I need you."

"I'm sorry, sir. Short of a miracle, you haven't got the Kirk you need, no matter how much I'd like to."

Young interrupted. "Would I be out of order, sir, in suggesting we pray for a miracle?"

"No, Captain. That's an excellent suggestion. Would you pray for us?" Perón requested.

"Lord," Young prayed. "We need a miracle today. I ask you to restore Kirk's mind to wholeness. Give him back the 30 years of memories he's lost. Lord, it's true that we need him. Who knows how many lives will be lost if he can't diffuse the current crisis with the Klingons. But I'm asking not for the Federation, but for Jim's sake. You love him, Lord, and I believe you want him to be whole. Heal him now, Lord, I ask you."

Young looked at Kirk, who shook his head. After a moment, Young continued.

"Lord, we need Your wisdom. What is hindering? Tell us what You want us to do now, Lord."

The room was silent. Finally Spock broke it.

"Jim?"

It was much more than a polite request for attention. But Kirk understood that, and readily gave assent to Spock's real question.

"Go ahead, Spock."

Spock turned to Young and Perón.

"As you know, I carry the memories Jim needs. He has forbidden me to attempt to retrieve them, because he does not want me to risk my life. His concern for my life is valid. I have been told that it cannot be done safely. However, I was not told that it was impossible. Indeed, I do not believe it impossible. But there is a high level of risk."

He turned back to Kirk.

"Jim, I have saved your life many times, usually at the risk of my own. You have done the same for me. By unspoken consent, we no longer count each occurrence as a debt owed. We recognize that the probability is high that eventually, one of us will be left with the knowledge that he was unable to save the other. But we know that it will not be through unwillingness." Spock steepled his fingers as if considering how much more to say.

"You do not remember all this, so for you, it is as if it did not happen. You are very uncomfortable with the idea that I would die for you, and do so willingly. You do not want to have to live with the responsibility for my death. That is why you do not want me to risk my life for you. But consider this: do you think I find it easy to live with the knowledge of what I have done to you?"

"Spock! Don't you dare blame yourself! The decision was mine, the responsibility mine, the consequences mine. You were against it; you told me why; and you were right. We should have done it your way; there was time. But I didn't know that, and I'm still not sorry for what you did. So don't you _ever_ think that I blame you for what I'm facing now. Spock," Kirk was almost in tears. "There aren't enough words to express how grateful I am for what you did for me!"

"Jim, I know that," Spock replied intently, though without any overt emotion. "Do you think that makes it easier for me to live with it?"

Kirk stared into Spock's eyes for a long moment. Then he put his face in his hands, sighed, and shook his head. When he looked up, his face was bleak.

"No, Spock, but I wish it did."

Spock's voice was little more than a whisper.

"Please, Jim, let me help you."

For the first time, Kirk saw that Spock would rather die trying to help, than have to live with the knowledge that Kirk would never be himself again. He also understood that, were it not for the Klingon crisis, Spock would not have brought it up again. Finally he accepted the idea that he owed Spock the right to make the attempt.

"All right, Spock, you can try, provided the Admiral okays it. He may not wish to lose two officers in one day."

They both turned to Perón.

"I can't order it, but I won't forbid it. It's up to the two of you, and I'll support whatever you decide."

Kirk turned back to Spock. "Here and now?"

"Dr. McCoy would undoubtedly prefer the environment of Sickbay. Admiral, would you excuse us? This should not take long."

"Certainly, Spock."

The three of them left, and Young was left with Perón.

"Young, I've known those two for a long time. I told myself I would never be surprised at anything they did. But Kirk only has three months of history with Spock. How can he trust him so much?"

"Sir, have you ever been in a mind-meld with Spock?" Young asked.

"No, I haven't," Perón readily admitted.

"Well, I have, and so has Kirk. Believe me, Spock's trustworthiness isn't an issue. What I don't understand is why Spock didn't mention the Klingon crisis when he was trying to persuade Kirk."

McCoy had the same question as they arrived in Sickbay. Kirk assumed Spock thought it unnecessary. But Spock's reply startled him.

"Doctor, I kept my arguments on a personal level, because, in order to accomplish what must be done, Jim must be willing to let me die for him. By its nature, this issue is very personal, and the presence of a crisis with the Klingons is, in a sense, irrelevant."

"Spock," Kirk questioned, "Are you saying, you're definitely not going to survive?"

"No, but if you aren't willing to let me die, you won't be able to do what you must."

"Which is?"

"It will be easier to show you."

McCoy stood with his back to the door, praying that he wouldn't need any of the equipment in the room. Kirk stood calmly in front of Spock. Neither appeared at all nervous about the prospect of imminent death. Spock put his fingers on Kirk's face.

*Welcome, Spock. Come in.*

*Jim, it is I who invite you into my mind. Come with me.*

They walked together through a maze of passages.

*Do I need to remember the way through all this?*

*No, that should not be necessary.*

They walked on in companionable silence for several minutes. Finally they arrived at a widened passage. At the far end was a large door which resembled a vault. The door was shut, and Kirk guessed, securely locked.

Several feet in front of the door stood a pedestal. As they drew closer, Kirk saw that the object on the pedestal was a green glass ball that glowed with life. Inside the ball was a clearly visible key.

*Your memories are behind that door. The key unlocks the door. You must break the glass to get the key.*

*What happens to you?*

*As the glass shatters, so will I.*

*You die when I break the glass?*

*That was the intent when I created this lock. I am certain that if I broke the glass, I would die. If you break the glass, perhaps I will not die.*

*Perhaps? As in, it's never been done before, so who knows, anything's possible?*

*That is correct.*

*Spock, why do you want to do this? You know I can survive without those memories.*

*Survive, yes. Function in your calling, no. Tell me, Jim, if it were only your own life at risk, would you risk it in order to get your memory back?*

*Of course.*

*Jim, Jesus loves you, and He wants you to be whole. I am the instrument of that love, if you will let me.*

Kirk hesitated, then reminded himself that he owed Spock the attempt. Taking a deep breath, he thrust the doubts aside. *Yes, Spock, I will.*

*Then break the glass.*

Kirk raised his fist and brought it down with crushing force onto the glass ball. It shattered. Instantly, Kirk was standing in Sickbay with Spock on the floor at his feet. McCoy rushed forward and Kirk dropped to his knees.

"What happened?" McCoy had his scanner out.

"Is he alive?" Kirk asked.

"Yes, barely. Help me get him on the table."

They picked Spock up and deposited him on the diagnostic bed.

McCoy turned to Kirk. "If you can tell me what happened, I'll have a better idea what to do for him."

Kirk stared at Spock, apparently unaware of the question. "He didn't die. He didn't die."

McCoy turned to the diagnostics and muttered to himself. "Hmm. Severe trauma, but not the physical kind. There's nothing to treat. Body's on automatic pilot. Mind's checked out. No telling when or if he'll come back."

Since there was nothing he could do for Spock, McCoy turned back to Kirk, who still seemed unaware of him.

"Spock, you're alive, but I don't know what to do now."

"For starters, sit down," McCoy quipped.

McCoy pulled up a chair and Kirk sat, but his attention was still focused on Spock. After a moment, he picked up Spock's limp hand.

"Bones, you've seen him do this. Where do the fingers go?"

Thinking it fruitless, McCoy helped anyway, placing Spock's fingers in the right position on Kirk's face.

Kirk closed his eyes and immediately found himself back in the room with the shattered glass ball. Spock wasn't there, and yet his presence seemed to pervade the room. As Kirk approached the pedestal, he saw that the pieces of glass still glowed with green life. He picked up the key and walked to the vault door. He turned around and studied the broken glass again.

*Shattered, but not destroyed. Defenseless, yet unafraid. You let me back in here, knowing I could wreak havoc if I chose. But you trust me not to take anything but what is mine. I marvel at you, Spock, even as I have known from the first day that you were a very special friend.*

Kirk turned, inserted the key, and pushed open the door. As he stepped into the room within, he was overwhelmed with a flood of memories. The wave swept him off his feet; the whirlpool left him dizzy as it tossed him in circles. When the force of it abated, he lay on his back and raised his hands in praise and gratitude to God. The aching void was filled; he was whole again.

He got to his feet and stepped to the doorway. Again, he was aware of Spock's presence.

*Thank you, Spock. I know we're not counting, but I owe you big-time for this one. However, this mission isn't complete as long as you're lying in Sickbay in a coma. So pull yourself together. Spock, I need you.*

No response.

_Lord Jesus, Spock gave himself freely that I might be whole. Now I ask you to heal him and make him whole - because You love him just as much as You love me._

Suddenly the broken glass disappeared and Spock stood in front of the pedestal.

_Thank you, Jesus!_

*Welcome back, Jim.*

They embraced warmly, as they would never have done elsewhere.

*Thank you, Spock, for all of it. I have lots of questions about what happened while I was gone, but that can wait. We have work to do.*

xxxx

En route from Sickbay back to the briefing room, they encountered none other than Chuck Byrd, wearing commander's stripes.

"Chuck!" Kirk exclaimed. "What are you doing here? And congratulations on your promotion."

"Jim?! You mean, you know who I am?"

"I just got my memory back. But why didn't I know you were on board?"

"I was nothing but a name to you. I'm listed under temporary personnel. I was acting as First Officer until you all got back from First's galaxy. Since then, I've mostly been working in Engineering. Dr. McCoy thought it unwise to bring up all that history you didn't remember anyway." Chuck leaned casually against the bulkhead.

"Bones! A First Officer belongs on the Bridge; you know that! So you got Young to banish him to Engineering, just so I wouldn't have to deal with one more person I should know and didn't?! That's ridiculous!" Kirk was clearly incensed, but not quite sputtering.

"Calm down, Jim. Chuck is a lot more than just another crew member. Anyway, it doesn't matter now."

Kirk continued to glare at McCoy. "What is best for this ship is always, always, more important than what's best for me. And I'm not even conceding that this little subterfuge was best for me." He paused. "How could I have missed the absence of a First Officer?!"

"You knew Spock was First Officer. You knew he wasn't here. You didn't know Young requested Chuck because he didn't want to promote somebody he would have to demote when we got back. Nor did Command think it wise for him to do without a First Officer for months, given his own lack of experience."

"Okay, more on this later. Perón is waiting. Let's go. I'll catch you later, Chuck."

xxxx

Kirk, Spock, and McCoy marched into the briefing room, having been gone less than 20 minutes. Young could not tell by any facial expression whether the attempt had been a success or failure, though they were at least both still alive.

"It didn't work, then?" Young inquired.

Then Kirk smiled. "Yes, Josh, it worked. Which is to say, the Lord used Spock to give me back my memory, then miraculously restored Spock to functioning too. So we're fine. Is the Admiral still on the line?"

"Yes, Jim, I am. Welcome back. You have no idea how glad I am to see you whole. And it's not just because I need you, though I do, desperately."

"I know, so let's get down to business. Where did Kadat say that meeting was?"

"Jim, I have to settle the captain question. There'll be no argument now, but I need to make it official."

Kirk looked thoughtful. "Admiral, I'm not sure I'd do that, if I were you. I know you said you were going to render a decision within 24 hours, but you can find a way to put it off. Get somebody to find a technicality."

"But why, Jim?" Perón was puzzled.

"Several reasons. We haven't got time to take Young to a starbase, so he's stuck with us for the duration. What I have in mind will work better with Young in command of the _Enterprise_. Lastly, if it doesn't work, you're going to have to replace me anyway."

"Jim, don't give me any more gray hairs. It has to work. Failure is unacceptable."

"Understood. So this is what I think we should do."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Kirk piloted the shuttle with Spock beside him. Kadat was in the back, securely bound and wearing a sensory deprivation unit. Kirk had wanted to come alone, but he'd been overruled. And he was glad Spock was there, except he would have felt safer with Spock on the _Enterprise_. If this was a trap, Spock was walking into it too. He had no idea whether Young could get them both out if necessary, but Spock seemed confident. So here they were.

Perón had wanted the _Enterprise_ to go in with 'guns blazing.' Kirk had vetoed it because that would frighten the quarry away. They needed to catch them at it, keep them from killing each other, and permanently disrupt the potential alliance and conspiracy. Quite a tall order. But Kirk hoped they could at least distract their attention long enough to allow the _Enterprise_ to approach unnoticed.

Young was to wait 48 hours, allowing the shuttlecraft to reach the rendezvous, before crossing the Zone. It would take the ship only 12 hours to make the same distance. If he and Spock couldn't manage to stay alive that long, then Young would have to pick up the pieces.

Kirk had vetoed having any electronic devices installed in his skin. It would be a dead give-away that he had not in fact come alone. He didn't even want Kadat to know that Spock was along. Thus the sensory deprivation unit. Kadat had been conscious for hours. He undoubtedly knew he was in a shuttlecraft, but that was all he knew. Kirk was not surprised that he neither screamed nor struggled.

He and Spock didn't talk much. They didn't need to. About four hours from their goal, Spock brought up a subject Kirk would have preferred to ignore.

"What about the mind-sifter?"

"They won't have one on this planet. It's too big to transport."

"And if you get transported to it?"

"It's not likely. Besides, Korn's tried it three times already. His superiors never did believe you took my memories."

"Jim, you've said very little about what you plan to do when we get there. I understand that; the idea would have upset them deeply. But I know how you think, and the idea does not appall me. However, if I am to be of use to you, I need a way to track you that is not electronic. I wish to establish a permanent mind link."

"Spock, no!"

"Why not?" Spock asked as if it was an eminently reasonable proposal.

"Because I don't want you to die."

"Jim, it should not be necessary to quote you the odds of either of us surviving this mission. However, they would be significantly higher if we were mentally linked."

"I should think you would have had enough of this by now. You almost died the last time," Kirk quipped.

"That was entirely different."

"No, it's not. But promise me this. If you end up taking my memories again, no life-threatening locks on the vault. Those memories are yours, to play with as much as you want, my gift to you."

"Thank you," Spock acknowledged quietly. "We can hope it won't come to that."

"Better that than having me die on you."

"Your capacity for survival in adverse circumstances is phenomenal."

So Spock established a permanent link. To Kirk's surprise, it took over half an hour. He was used to Spock's mental surgeries taking only a few minutes. Spock explained that it generally took longer to build something than to tear it down. When he was finished, he had some cautions.

"Unlike the previous link, you will be constantly aware of my presence, whether or not I speak. This distraction may hinder your functioning effectively. It would be unwise to allow them to learn of our mental link. Secondly, if anything happens to me, you will feel it as if it is happening to you. I cannot shield you from it. Lastly, should we survive this mission, the process of severing this link will be physical and emotional agony."

"You usually tell me all this stuff ahead of time. You're slipping, Spock." And Kirk grinned. "Mmmm- I see what you mean. I know what you're thinking - all the complexities. It goes by too fast for words - and it keeps changing. I see why this is distracting. But I've got a couple of hours to get used to it. I'll be okay."

The temptation was to get lost in the kaleidoscope of Spock's thoughts. Twice in the next hour, Kirk caught himself getting caught up in the fascinating complexities of Spock's mind. Each time he jerked himself back to reality before Spock had to say anything. The second hour was easier because they were approaching the rendezvous, and the externals required more of Kirk's attention.

"Long-range sensors indicate six vessels in orbit, Captain. Three Klingon, and three Romulan. They each have one battlecruiser and two destroyer-class vessels."

"Can you compute me an orbit that avoids all six?"

"Negative, Captain. They have the field covered."

"Send a tight burst to the _Enterprise_, so they'll know what they're getting into."

Spock's hands began flying over the console before Kirk finished speaking.

"Done, Captain. Sensors indicate location of conference is on the planet. 18 humanoids - six Romulan, twelve Klingon. At present course and speed, ETA in 15 minutes."

"Program the transporter to set us down out of sight but within walking distance. Then set up a self-destruct countdown on this shuttle."

This done, Spock took over the controls and Kirk started shedding clothes. He propped Kadat in the transporter alcove without removing any of his bonds. Spock sent first Kadat and then Kirk to the planet. Timing his own departure for just seconds before detonation of the self-destruct, he hoped the third use of the transporter would go unnoticed.

Kirk checked the vicinity and saw no one and nothing alarming. The planet was desert-dry and cold on his bare skin - inhospitable to Klingons and Romulans alike. He set about freeing Kadat. Before he was finished, Spock arrived planet-side, though out of sight. Kirk was distracted by two separate sets of sensory input. Spock could compartmentalize; he'd better learn to, fast.

Taking the SDU off Kadat, he buried it and most of the ropes under some loose rocks. Turning back to Kadat, he spoke in Klingon.

"Get up."

Kadat complied, staring at Kirk without a word. Kirk tied one rope around his collar as a leash and handed the other to Kadat.

"Tie my hands."

Kirk turned his back and put his hands behind him. Kadat did, expertly and not at all gently. Kirk turned back to face him.

"Take me to Konti."

Suddenly Kadat roared with laughter, harsh and ugly.

"Kirk, you're crazy. You know what the punishment is for an escaped prisoner?"

"That's irrelevant. I need a way to get close enough to talk to those delegations. So are you going to take me to Konti, or do I go alone?"

"I'll take you, but it won't get you what you want."

"We'll see."

It took almost an hour to reach the collection of buildings housing the conference. By the time they were accosted by a perimeter guard, Kirk's feet were bleeding from walking on the rough terrain. Kadat spoke to the guard.

"I am Kadat. This is an escaped prisoner I am bringing to Konti. Let us in."

"You look like Kadat, and the prisoner sure looks like Kirk, but I heard he's dead. So what are you doing here?"

"The prisoner _is_ Kirk. Does he look dead to you? Konti will not be pleased if you don't let us in."

"How did you get here? And how did you know where to come?"

"I am Kadat. I know many things. Are you going to stand there all day asking questions?!"

The guard's resolve crumpled and he let them in. While he took them to Konti, Spock slipped in unnoticed and hid within the compound. There were half a dozen buildings surrounding a central larger building, all of them pre-fab, temporary structures. Kirk was taken first to one of the smaller buildings. It housed communication equipment and dining facilities. Kadat was told that Konti was unavailable.

"You tell him I'm here, or I'll barge right into that meeting!"

So the comm tech did. Within minutes, Konti emerged from the larger building and approached them. His eyes widened at the sight of Kirk, but he spoke to Kadat.

"Come with me."

They followed him to another small building, with separate doors to each of three cabins for the delegates. Konti entered the largest, they followed him in, and he shut the door. He looked from one to the other and back again.

"Explain."

"You sent Kadat to get me. I came. An obedient slave comes at his master's call."

"And you, Kadat, what say you?"

"I am bringing you an escaped prisoner."

"Kirk is not an escaped prisoner. But I thank you for your services. You have been and will be paid generously. And now I will make arrangements for you on board my ship. Come."

He turned to open the door.

"You're going to leave Kirk here? Unsecured?"

"I suppose that would be unwise, given the circumstances."

He tied Kirk's leash to the leg of the desk, forcing Kirk to kneel. Kadat seemed satisfied and the two of them left. Kirk sat down to await Konti's return. He noticed the bloody footprints on the floor. His feet were much too soft. He wondered idly how much of the rest of him was too softened up and hoped he wouldn't have to find out.

*Spock, where are you?*

*I am within the compound. Their perimeter guard is scanty.*

*They're expecting trouble from within, not without. Watch yourself.*

*Understood, Captain. I am among the rocks behind the building you are in.*

Konti was gone a half hour. When he returned, he took a long look at Kirk's feet and shook his head grimly. Without a word, he scoured the room looking for bugs. Finding one, he examined it briefly, then took it outside and hurled it into the rocks. It missed hitting Spock by less than a foot. Konti came back inside and shut the door.

"Kirk! This was not what I had in mind when I sent Kadat to you."

"I know, but this seemed the best way to get to you."

"So he did not in fact capture you?" Konti inquired.

"No, this was my idea. He said I was crazy."

"My science officer said you came in a shuttlecraft, which blew up. I was hoping you'd bring the _Enterprise_."

Kirk shrugged. "What could she do against so many? I want you to get me into that meeting. If I can talk to them, maybe we can settle this without bloodshed."

"Kirk, you _are_ crazy. Every time I walk in there, I feel the tension in the air. It's like a time bomb just waiting for somebody to light the fuse. And you think you can go in there and _talk_ to them? In a Federation uniform, maybe they'd listen if they thought you had the fire power to back it up. But as a slave, no way!" Konti was adamant.

"So you won't let me even try?"

"Kirk, I've been wracking my brain for a way to get you out of here alive. But by now, the whole compound knows you're here. They're not going to give me any options. I can't even clean up your feet."

Kirk grinned. "Sorry about your floor. We walked for an hour to get here. My feet aren't used to walking on rocks."

"Never mind the floor. Kirk, you don't understand the situation."

"So tell me."

Konti sat on the floor facing Kirk. His gaze was intent on Kirk's face.

"Kirk, you must believe me. If I had known then what I know now, I would never have sent you that message. The only reason they found out you were alive is because Korn guessed. I couldn't hide the joy."

"Konti, it's okay. The news would have leaked out soon anyway. I don't live in a vacuum."

"No, it's not okay. Anyway, we, some of us, decided the Federation should know. It was my idea to send Kadat to you."

"It worked, Konti. The Federation knows. No matter what happens here, they won't be taken by surprise. Thank you."

"Kirk," Konti was puzzled. "There's something different about you. Something I see in your eyes."

Suddenly his mouth dropped open.

"Oh, no! It can't be! It's your memory. You have your memory back, don't you?"

Kirk smiled. "Don't look so horrified. I should think you'd be happy for me."

"You walked in here as a defenseless slave, with your memory intact?! Kirk, you really _are_ crazy!"

"Konti, relax. No one's going to get me to spill any secrets, any more than they did the first time."

Konti wiped his hand across his face and looked bleakly at Kirk.

"Kirk, I learned two days ago that the impetus for this meeting - this alliance - began within the Federation. I do not have a name, but someone inside the Federation sold you to us. That's you personally - James T. Kirk. You were to be delivered into our hands for one purpose. We were in turn to use you to cement an alliance with the Romulans. The deal fell through when we couldn't make you talk.

"The Romulans learned you were alive, probably through the same source in the Federation. They demanded we complete the deal. Everybody, Klingons and Romulans both, now think that Kadat brought you here for the purpose of completing the deal. And they think I engineered your timely appearance to show how much power I have. So you've played right into their hands. In just over an hour, I have to present you to the delegates, a sacrificial offering to cement the alliance. Unless I can come up with a way to get you out of here without getting us both killed."

"Konti, I don't want to get out of here. I want to talk to them. So go ahead and present me."

"Kirk, you don't know what you're asking for. Once I deliver you into their hands, I cannot protect you. Furthermore, I will have to behave as though I don't care what happens to you."

"That will be hard for you, but you've done it before. You'll manage."

"Kirk, I have no idea whether they will let you talk to them. And I must tell you: Koh is in there right now setting up his equipment."

Kirk smiled. "Koh is here? It will be good to see him. How is he?"

"Not very happy. The pressure on him to break you has never been higher."

"It should be fairly easy to reduce me to screaming uncontrollably. After all, I've been away from it for four months."

"You and I both know that screaming doesn't mean you'll talk," Konti insisted.

"But surely they won't blame him for that."

"Don't be too sure. But I will endeavor to keep him alive, which is more than I can do for you."

"Konti, I trust Jesus. I am not afraid. But I am concerned for you. Kadat spoke of several factions within the higher circles of the Klingon government. Some of the delegates are planning to kill you when opportunity presents itself."

"I know. I wish I knew which ones," Konti added regretfully.

"Kadat has names, if his word can be trusted." And Kirk shared what he knew from Kadat. Konti gave Kirk physical descriptions of each.

"About the Romulans though, I know very little. They're a cagey bunch."

"Not surprising under the circumstances. Are the negotiations being held in the Klingon language?" Kirk asked.

"No, we're using Standard. They don't speak Klingon, we don't speak Romulan, and nobody trusts the translators."

They talked another half hour about the things of the Lord. The translation work was progressing, if slowly. There were now half a dozen Christians, including himself, Koh, and Kezak. They had to meet in secret, but all were growing in their faith.

Someone came to the door with a report that Koh was ready.

"All right. Inform the delegates. Meeting to reconvene in ten minutes."

The messenger left.

"Konti, do I understand correctly that _you_ are in charge of this conference?"

"Yes, Kirk, I am. But that won't help you any."

Kirk grinned. "You're playing as dangerous a game as I am."

"Where do you think I learned it?" Konti returned the grin briefly, but then sobered. "Would you like to pray for us, or shall I?"

"I will. Lord, the outcome of this conference is crucial for the future of the Klingons, Romulans, and the Federation. We believe you want peace in the galaxy, Lord. If the only way to have peace is to allow a bloodbath here, then we're willing to be part of it. But if we can have peace without bloodshed, help us make it possible. I pray especially for Konti. Give him Your inner peace this day. He needs Your wisdom, Your strength, and Your joy." Kirk opened his eyes and turned to Konti.

"Konti, there's two more things I want to say before we go in there. I harbor nothing against you for whatever happens in there. I'm not looking for you to save me from any of it. I know you're going to have to order Koh to maximize my pain. I want you to know it's okay.

"Secondly, there are some things I'm not telling you. When you find out, be angry, but know this. It's not because I don't trust you. It's because prior knowledge is not essential, and it will be easier for your response to be genuine if you don't know. Will you trust me?"

"Yes, Kirk, I trust you."

"Thank you. We'd better go. Don't want to keep them waiting."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Young was glad the waiting was over. 48 hours had never seemed to drag out so long before. Uhura reported receiving a communication from the shuttle.

"Text only, sir. They've reached the rendezvous. Six vessels in orbit: 3 Klingon, 3 Romulan. A battlecruiser and two destroyers each. They will abandon the shuttle and set it to self-destruct. That's all, sir."

"All right. Send that on to Starfleet. We're going in anyway. Would appreciate any backup they can send."

"Yes, sir."

"Chekov, got that course laid in?"

"Aye, Keptin."

"Sulu, Warp Eight. Let's see if we can beat that twelve hours by a bit."

"Yes, sir!"

They were all happy to be doing something. They crossed the Zone and headed deeper into hostile territory. All were grateful not to encounter any vessels, Klingon or Romulan. Two hours later the ship suddenly gave a lurch.

"Losing power, sir," Sulu reported.

"No vessels in the vicinity, Captain," Martin's sensors showed.

"Bridge to Engineering," Young called.

"Scott here, sir. I don't know yet, but it doesn't look good."

"This is the wrong time for engine failure, Mr. Scott."

"I'm aware of that, sir. I'll keep ye informed."

"Bridge out."

"Warp drive is off-line, sir. We're down to impulse drive only." This from the lieutenant at the engineering console on the Bridge.

Young kept his frustration in check.

"Engineering to Bridge."

"Young here."

"Cap'n, I think ye'd better see this fer yerself."

"On my way. Sulu, you have the conn."

Young marched into main engineering and Scotty called him over to a panel on the far wall. A technician had removed several sections of access covers. Scott pointed in dismay. Young's knowledge of engineering was sketchy at best, but obvious even to him was the havoc wreaked by several small demolition charges.

"I see. We have several problems then. How long to fix this mess?"

"Four hours, minimum. That's if I don't have to manufacture any parts."

"Set a team to scouring this place for other examples of this kind of handiwork. I'll assign Chuck Byrd to finding the saboteur, unless you think he might be it?"

"Chuck?! Not a chance. I'd stake my life on it."

xxxx

Kirk preceded Konti into the central building. The interior was one large room, well-lit, not lavish, but better than utilitarian appointments. Two curved tables faced each other in the middle of the room. Six chairs filled each table. The one on the end of the Klingon table was the only unoccupied seat. Kirk walked toward it. Suddenly, Konti jerked violently on the leash, sending Kirk to the floor, his air cut off.

"Get up!" Konti growled.

Kirk complied, schooling his face to non-expression. He wasn't entirely sure whether Konti wanted to change his direction, or was just illustrating his anger and contempt for Kirk. So he stood and stared at Konti, careful not to meet his eyes, lest they betray them both. However his body language was not that of subservience, nor even of a caged warrior. Rather he exuded that quiet self-assurance that Konti had mostly only seen in private.

"Move!" and Konti shook the leash.

Kirk turned and resumed walking toward Konti's chair. Within a few steps, Konti again threw him to the floor. By the time they'd repeated this scenario twice more, they had arrived at Konti's chair.

"Kneel," was Konti's command.

"No."

Konti's response was instinct. He slapped Kirk in the face, sending him sprawling. Kirk stood up, faced Konti, and waited for him to do it again. Which he did. Konti heartily wished Kirk would stay down, but he knew that he wouldn't. Kirk understood that Konti couldn't allow his rebellion to go unchallenged. They both knew the delegates would never listen to the slave persona Kirk had put on before. After Kirk had hit the floor twice more, one of Konti's colleagues spoke up.

"Hey, Konti! Don't ruin the merchandise. If you break his jaw, he can't talk."

Konti glared at the intrusion, then bellowed. "Koh! Come here!"

Koh came, cautiously.

"Take him and break him. I want him talking within the hour. Surely all those months of experiments must have told you how to apply an intolerable level of pain. I want him to wish he could die - maximum agony, but conscious and aware. Do it!"

"This is a waste of time. I'll talk now, if you'll listen," Kirk offered.

"Yes, but would you say anything useful? You're just stalling. Koh?"

"I'm not stalling. I have a proposal. You let Koh do his thing for two hours. If I can remain silent, that's no screaming, nothing, then you all agree to listen for a third hour to what I have to say."

"Absolutely silent? For two hours? Koh! What's the likelihood Kirk can do that?"

"Extremely unlikely. I have several new elements, one of which is a drug that heightens the sensitivity of perception by a factor of two, while not changing the level of pain actually felt."

"So he will feel twice as much without passing out?"

_Watch it, Konti_, Kirk thought. _You sound too appalled._

"Yes, sir. It'll take me about an hour to wire him up."

"The proposal stands," Kirk affirmed. "Two hours from the time he turns it on. Make it as impossible as you can."

Konti turned to the delegates. "What say you all to this ridiculous proposal? He's in no position to bargain anyway, but if you want, you can agree to listen in the event he manages to accomplish the impossible. And it might be amusing to time how many minutes it does take to reduce him to begging for mercy."

The prevailing opinion was: 'Why not? We've nothing to lose.'

Koh took Kirk's leash from Konti, who sat down heavily. Kirk and Koh walked over to the far side of the room where Koh's equipment was set up. En route Koh got a good look at Kirk's back.

"Kirk! What have you done to your back? And those feet are a bloody mess!"**

"Sorry. I'm glad to see you too. How's the cheerful disregard doing?"

"It isn't. Kirk, even you aren't going to be able to tolerate this."

"I know, but Jesus in me can do anything."

Koh gave him a hypo, and began untying his hands.

"Sorry I can't give you feedback on that drug. This audience wouldn't understand."

"I don't need it. I've got a much more sophisticated monitor."

"You've been busy."

"There's more. Just wait and see. Now, wash your feet."

He handed Kirk a basin of water. Kirk sat on the floor and carefully but quickly washed his feet, while Koh removed the leash from his collar and attached a microphone.

"I'm turning on this mic, so watch what you say."

They had both been speaking Klingon from habit, and now would have to return to Standard, so as not to alarm the Romulans. Koh gave Kirk two more hypos. When he finished washing, Koh sprayed a liquid onto the soles of his feet.

"Anesthetic?!"

"Quite the opposite. The rest of your skin must be prepared for this topical drug."

Koh attached the usual-looking footpads.

"Now stand up. Put your right foot there."

He pointed to a slightly raised platform with pads for each foot. He put his feet on the pads and discovered they swiveled, so as to balance his weight evenly, in spite of the fact that his feet were spread three feet apart.

"Comfortable?"

Kirk nodded. Koh attached manacles to his ankles. Then he picked up a tool that looked like a utility knife with a needle instead of a blade.

"Hold out your right hand."

Koh carefully scored the skin on his palm and up each finger to the tip. They were scratches, not enough to bleed. Kirk was impressed with Koh's skill, but said nothing. Turning the hand over, Koh repeated the operation. Then he sprayed the hand with his anti-anesthetic. When he had done both hands, he put the gloves on him and attached his wrists to manacles which he strung up to the ceiling, resulting in a vertical, spread-eagled position. Kirk grabbed the chains to ease the tension on his wrists.

The belly was next, followed by arms, legs, chest and back. Kirk began to feel as if he was being carved open. The scratches and the drug combined to make his skin sting and itch furiously. The face was last. Kirk gazed warmly at Koh as he carved on Kirk's face. Neither spoke, but Koh got the message. He shook his head fractionally, refusing to excuse himself for what he was doing to Kirk.

"Now close your eyes, and keep them closed."

Kirk held his breath too as the liquid sprayed his face. The drug was in full swing before Koh had the face mask attached. The knife-pain leads were next. Then Koh put something across his forehead.

"Portable mind-sifter?"

"No. This is my monitor. It tells me what your brain thinks it feels."

Kirk was feeling nauseated, dizzy, weak, and chilled. All familiar, if unpleasant. And he had purposely eaten nothing all day. But he had no sense yet of the double drug taking effect. Doubtless it would soon. Suddenly he felt the wrist manacles being lowered. When his hands touched his thighs, the chain stopped.

"Fall forward."

Having no idea whether the footpads would swivel enough for him to reach the floor, Kirk fell, keeping his back and legs straight. Before he was half-way down, his chest encountered an all-too-familiar strap.

"Bend at the hips."

Koh pushed him down til his back was horizontal. Then he clamped his neck in a vise, and Kirk knew what was coming.

"Must I immobilize your hands?"

"No. I know enough to hold still."

Instead of getting on with it however, Koh went to talk to the audience, explaining what he had done and what he was about to do. Also which things were new to Kirk, and which familiar. One of the Romulans was incredulous.

"You mean, he knows what you're about to do, it's the thing he dreads the most, and you're not restraining him?!"

"That's right. He knows immobility is essential to avoid permanent damage."

He didn't tell them he could have left all restraints off, and Kirk would have cheerfully stood there and let Koh drive him past his known limits repeatedly. He returned to the business at hand and began inserting the wires in Kirk's back.

*Spock, it's almost show time. I'm sorry you have to endure this.*

*Not a problem, Jim.*

*Promise me you'll stay out of it, Spock. Do not do this for me - not any part of it. I don't want that monitor to give away your presence. Besides, I'm asking for a demonstration of the miraculous. And even if we don't get it and I end up screaming for twelve hours, it's not a catastrophe.*

*You trust Koh.*

*Yes, I do. He won't kill me, at least not today, and not without telling me about it. Doesn't mean it won't feel like it. I'm about to get a whole new lesson in what pain is, but it will not make me wish I could die. And Konti knows it.*

Koh was finished and unclamped Kirk's neck.

"Stand up slowly."

Koh applied three more hypos in quick succession. Within 30 seconds, Kirk felt the double drug taking hold. Koh raised his hands back to their former spread-eagled position. Before Kirk could take three deep breaths, Koh hit the power switch.

It was immediately absolutely awful, the intensity like nothing he'd encountered before. He would have said it was impossible to feel this much pain, except that coherent thought was beyond him. The pain was all of life. No time sense, no awareness of circumstances or surroundings. He simply existed. He did not think about accepting the pain, or thanking God that he wasn't afraid of it. He wasn't even aware of the need to remain silent. And he was completely unaware of his body's response.

Those watching saw his body go rigid with tension, his mouth open in a silent scream. After the initial shock, he began breathing in ragged gasps. His body jerked and twitched uncontrollably. After about ten minutes, his mouth closed and his breathing became slow and deep. Within another ten minutes he had stopped jerking and stood motionless. Five minutes later, Koh turned it off and told the audience what they had just seen.

Kirk was aware the pain had stopped, that is, most of it. The itching, stinging irritation wouldn't quit til the drug wore off. He became gradually aware that Koh was talking, but it took several minutes to make sense of it. Before he really comprehended the implications, Koh had turned it back on. Kirk was immediately lost in the pain, but it took his body only five minutes to adjust. This time when Koh turned it off, he came straight to Kirk.

"Can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Describe your pain."

"Isn't your monitor working? The itching and stinging is almost unbearable, but it's nothing compared to the rest of it. Your double drug works. I've never felt anything like it in my life."

"Yet you can conquer it just as easily as all the rest."

"Conquer this? No way! It's impossible."

"Kirk! You've done it. Twenty minutes the first time, five the next. Same as you always do."

"Well, my body must be on auto-pilot then, cuz I'm not doing anything. Once you turn it on, I'm not aware of anything, except the agony, until you turn it off."

"So you could spill those Federation secrets without even knowing it?"

"I don't think so. I doubt I'd even hear you ask a question. But the real issue is that I'm not afraid of it. Torture only works if the victim fears the pain more than he fears the consequences of talking. Since I don't fear it, the threat of more doesn't motivate me to avoid it by talking."

"You don't fear it, even though it's worse agony than anything I've done before."

"Magnitudes worse - words can't describe how awful it is."

"What if I turn it back on?"

"Go ahead. I expected you would."

This time it took Kirk's body thirty seconds flat to get it under control. Koh turned it off and on repeatedly, and got no reaction from Kirk whatsoever. Kirk's fragmented awareness became a blur. He wasn't even aware of it when Koh quit playing with it and just left it on.

Koh went to confer with Konti.

"In my opinion, you'll get no more physical reaction out of him no matter how many times I turn it on and off, or how long I leave it on. His body has months of experience with this, and he has it so well-trained, that it will do his bidding without conscious volition. The drug affects his perception, not what his body is actually feeling. I hoped to have found something his psyche couldn't tolerate. Once again, he's proved me wrong."

"What about prolonged exposure?"

"I doubt that will make any difference. The first time I used the wires in his back, he lost control after three days straight. I don't expect that will happen again."

"Even at double the perceived intensity?"

"Much more likely he'll figure out a way to talk through it."

xxxx

Two hours passed slowly. The delegates milled around restlessly. They examined Koh's equipment. They stared at Kirk. They talked among themselves. Some tried to talk to Kirk. They got no response. Several insisted on turning it off and on. But they never left it off long enough for Kirk to come out of it. Finally the Romulans insisted on proof that Kirk was actually in pain.

"You saw the reaction. You heard what he said. What more proof can you get?"

One of them spoke up. "I have learned the Vulcan art of mind-meld."

"The Vulcans don't do that without the permission of the victim."

"I am not a Vulcan."

"You're asking to experience what he's experiencing? Be my guest, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Konti was alarmed, but couldn't let it show. If this Romulan could really do a mind-meld, then Kirk's secrets were exposed. The man placed his fingers on Kirk's face. He staggered, went rigid, and then violently withdrew, falling backward to the floor. After a moment, he rose and composed himself.

"I had no idea. All your description doesn't convey the incredible reality. I would not have believed a human could tolerate that."

"He's no ordinary human."

"I sensed something else about his mind. I must verify."

He again placed his fingers on Kirk's face. This time he stayed some thirty seconds before falling away.

"It is as I suspected. There is a presence in his mind. A very strong presence. Probably Vulcan. But that presence is doing nothing to shield Kirk from the agony. Rather he is guarding access to the rest of Kirk's memories. I doubt that I could penetrate that shield. However, I do not think such a presence could be maintained over any great distance. I suspect the Vulcan is on this planet right now."

He turned to Konti, who had risen at the first mention of a Vulcan presence.

"I suggest you find him."

Konti ordered an immediate search. Aware that this was what Kirk had not told him, he wondered why not. Kirk had said to be angry. All right, he would. He approached Kirk, who appeared oblivious. He was not unconscious though, because he held his head up, cocked slightly as if listening. Konti wondered if Spock could hear through Kirk's ears. He punched Kirk in the solar plexus, cutting off his air.

"You think this little trick will save you and your precious secrets?! We will _find_ your Vulcan, and then we will break you both!"

He turned and stalked away. Kirk regained his breath and his posture, and gave no other sign of awareness of Konti's attack.

xxxx

Spock was in Konti's cabin. Immediately aware of the Romulan's contact, he was not surprised to hear the guards beginning a search. He could undoubtedly elude the guards if he took to the desert. But sensors aboard the ships in orbit would spot him immediately. Only within the compound might he be mistaken for a Romulan. Hearing the guards next door, he had moments only to hide himself.

The guards searched Konti's cabin and found nothing. They moved on to the next building, and Spock extricated himself from the compartment over the shower, and returned to his work at Konti's computer.

**Kirk's back had acquired massive additional scar tissue from the beating he received on First's planet. See _Mutiny_, fourth book in the series.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Scotty and Chuck were in Young's office conferring.

"Sir, we've checked ever' last panel in the place, an' his handiwork is all over engineering. I jus' don' see how 'e could've been so busy, an' I never noticed 'im," Scott complained.

"We'll get to that in a minute. How long will it take you to undo the demolition charges? And what happens if he sets something off before you get to it?" Young asked.

"Most of it's not life-threatenin'. I donna think he's on a suicide mission. Delayin' tactics and petty things just to make life miserable. As to how long to undo it all, we're talkin' days. I'll rescue the impulse engines first, but we'll be dead in the water for two hours while I do it. Weapons, sensors, and such I can fix without shuttin' down the engines. Gravity and food processors, he'll probably blow before I can get to 'em."

"Okay, that gives me the picture. We're looking at getting there five to six hours late, and who knows what won't be working when we arrive. Chuck, what have you got on finding this guy?"

"I too am kicking myself for not having seen this guy operate. Whoever he is, he's very good. I'm concentrating my search in engineering, though we can't completely rule out other departments. And the damage may not be confined to Engineering, since engineering techs have the run of the ship."

Young nodded his head thoughtfully. "What about the Bridge?"

"Less likely, but not impossible. One of the things we don't know is how long has this guy been operating? I'm assuming it's one person, and that it's a crew member. Unlikely that a stowaway could have done all this without being spotted. If a crew member, it could be a sleeper - someone who's been here a long time, but just started making trouble. Or it could be a relatively new crew member, and then the question is how new?"

Chuck held up a padd that he'd scribbled some numbers on. "If we give the cutoff at two years or less, we have over 100 suspects. If we narrow it to six months, we have thirty suspects; two months, ten suspects. If we confine it to engineering crew only, the above numbers become 35, 12 and 5. But I'm not advocating locking up an arbitrary group of people in the hopes of including the one.

"Distrust can be an insidious enemy. I've tried to keep the whole thing pretty low-profile, but not very successfully. All of engineering knows what's going on. You simply can't hide it from the ones that have to fix it." Chuck dropped the padd in obvious frustration.

"But sir, there's something else I must point out. It is obvious to anyone who looks at the facts that I myself am the prime suspect. I'm new personnel, and temporary at that. I have the run of the ship. I've been spending a lot of time in engineering lately, though I'm not officially engineering crew. Why do you not assign someone else the task of finding the saboteur?"

"Chuck, I too could be called a suspect. So could Scotty. In fact, everyone on board this ship is a suspect. I assigned you the task because in my estimation, you are the best man for the job." Young gave Chuck an intense look as if daring him to contradict his judgment.

"May I speak freely, Cap'n?"

Young relaxed and turned to Scott. "Certainly, Scotty."

"I donna think either of you did this dirty work, an' I doubt that anyone thinks I did it. My reputation is well-known. But I've got a department full of people that no longer fully trust one another. I'll be verra happy when ya find t' bugger."

xxxx

Konti sat and stared at Kirk. He'd been in uninterrupted agony for four hours. Koh assured him Kirk's body could take it for 40 hours straight. Neither of them quite understood how his psyche could tolerate the double dose. The delegation were pinning their hopes on the probability that he would crack under the strain. Personally, Konti doubted it, but he was forced to keep him in agony anyway.

The search for Spock had turned up nothing. Either Spock had been able to avoid being found, or he wasn't in fact on the planet. The Romulan seemed sure, but Kirk had said Spock took his memory from a great distance. God forbid that should be necessary again, but they had obviously come prepared for the possibility.

Koh interrupted his musings. "Sir, the drug is beginning to wear off. No appreciable decrease as yet, but it is no longer at maximum intensity. However, if I give him a second dose, one of two things will happen. Either his perception of the pain will increase by an unmeasurable magnitude, or he will begin to hallucinate. Also the topical drug has completely worn off. It is a relatively small portion of his total pain, but to include it, I would have to repeat the application, one patch at a time. It would be safest to turn it all off, and take the wires out of his back first."

"Can it be done without?"

"I think so. If he starts fighting me, I'll figure out a way to restrain him. But Konti, it's going to feel like I'm carving his skin up."

"Will any of this kill him?" Konti asked warily.

"There's a chance his mind will snap, and his body just quit, but no, the pain itself won't kill his body."

Konti took a deep breath. "Do it then. The double drug first, then start carving."

xxxx

Kirk was aware that the agony was suddenly magnitudes worse. He'd been swimming in it. Now suddenly he was sinking. It was overwhelming him. His soul screamed in protest. Those watching saw only the mouth open in a great gasp for air.

'Not any part of it,' Jim had said. So Spock prayed and waited to see if Jim could survive this.

Kirk's soul was losing the battle. His mind was not even aware there was a battle to be fought. His will was gradually being dominated by his screaming sense perception.

_Jesus!_ his spirit cried out.

_Put your faith in what you know, not in what you feel, _the Lord told him.

_ Thank you, Lord. Praise you, Jesus._

Kirk's spirit could do little more than repeat the three-word litany over and over again, while his soul continued to be overwhelmed. Then he felt his belly being cut open, and his soul could take no more. His body became rigid with tension, his mouth open in a silent scream, his head tossed back and forth as his soul tried to deny the reality of his agony.

_No, no, no!_ his soul screamed. _I can't take this! It's too much! I'm dying! I-can't-stand-it!_

_ Shut up, soul! I know you can't stand it. No one could, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that Jesus is Lord! Praise you, Jesus! Thank you, Lord! You are Lord over what I feel!_

Konti did not want to do what he was about to do. But he had no choice. Kirk had said he would not blame Konti for whatever happened, but there was no honor in this. Although Kirk had not yet started screaming, Konti thought he was pretty close to losing it.

"Kirk, can you hear me?"

No response.

"Kirk, it's only going to get worse. Would you like the pain to stop?"

Still no response.

"Tell me what I want to know, and the pain will stop. Otherwise Koh is going to carve open every square inch of skin on your body. As soon as you start talking the pain will stop. No one could stand this, Kirk. The Federation will understand. You can't die, Kirk. The drug won't let you. Every few hours, we'll take you to a new level of unbearable agony. There's no end to it, Kirk. Unless you talk."

Kirk spoke three words, quiet and clear. "Jesus is Lord."

Koh had done the patches on one leg. Konti nodded at him to do the foot. He released the ankle and lifted Kirk's foot, bending it at the knee. Resting Kirk's weight on his own thigh, Koh removed the footpad. Nothing prevented Kirk from kicking Koh, as he began carving the bottom of Kirk's foot.

"Jesus is Lord!" Kirk yelled.

When Koh got to the other foot, Kirk yelled again. "Praise you, Jesus!"

"Thank you, Lord!" and "Hallelujah!" were his responses to the hands.

The face was last. By this time, his body had returned to motionless acceptance. Koh ripped off the face mask and Kirk opened his eyes.

"Kirk, how do you do it?"

"Jesus is Lord over what I feel. Jesus' love and power are more real to me than what my senses are screaming. You can't kill me. You can't make me talk. But I understand that you will keep trying. So go ahead and carve my face. How long have we been at it anyway?"

"Over four hours," Koh replied.

"Did I scream?" Kirk wanted to know.

"Not a sound til you started talking about Jesus."

"Are the delegates still here?"

"Most of them."

"I'll wait. Will you tell me when they're all here?" Kirk requested.

"Close your eyes now. Would you hear me if I told you?" Koh asked.

"I think so. I'm hearing you now. I heard Konti's spiel. But you could always hit me to get my attention."

"Konti did that once already. You didn't seem aware."

"I wasn't. I trust it wasn't important." Kirk would have shrugged if he wasn't trying to hold very still.

"Not really. Anyway it's up to Konti whether the delegates will listen to you or not. Meanwhile, you're in for hours more agony."

"Thanks, Koh. I'll be okay. Don't worry."

"That's what you always say," Koh quipped, trying unsuccessfully for nonchalance.

"Well, it's the truth."

Kirk heard Koh walk away. His awareness of things other than the agony was back to normal. Praise God!

*Spock?*

*Yes, Jim. I have refrained from trying to talk to you while your attention was elsewhere.*

*You do like understatements, don't you. Spock, are you okay?*

*I am functional. Pain management requires a portion of my energy, but it is not a problem. You however, have never before encountered such as this. Are you 'okay'?*

Kirk chuckled. *Yes, Spock. The Lord sustains me. But I had just about lost it - in fact, I had - before I was able to access the grace.*

*I know. I heard you. Your command to stay out of it was a trial.*

*Sorry, but it was still the right decision.*

*I concur. However, there is another matter you should be aware of.*

And he told Kirk of the Romulan mind-meld, as well as the subsequent search for himself.

*So they didn't find you. Where are you now?*

*In Konti's cabin. I hid above the shower stall.* He paused. *However, I regret to inform you that Konti now knows where I am.*

Konti was framed in the doorway. Then he entered and shut the door.

"I presume you've checked for bugs."

Spock raised an eyebrow and responded mildly. "Thoroughly, sir."

"You call me 'sir'? I had hoped to meet you some day, but not like this."

"What is wrong with this meeting place?"

"Why didn't Kirk tell me you were here?"

"It was better for you not to know. Had it not been for the Romulan, you would not have known."

"He said you were not helping Kirk with the pain. He seemed to think that you could, but had chosen not to."

"Yes, I could," Spock readily admitted. "I am not doing so because Jim has forbidden it. He desired a demonstration of the miraculous. And it is a miracle. I myself have only rarely encountered this level of pain."

"You mean - you feel what he feels?!"

"The purpose of the link was not to avoid pain."

"It was to guard the Federation secrets," Konti guessed.

"Largely, yes."

"Why are you in my cabin? Did you come to talk to me, or was this just a convenient place to hide?"

"Jim desired that I bring you certain data tapes: Hebrew and Greek language studies, and two complete copies of the Scriptures - one in Standard, one in the original languages. He could not bring them himself due to his lack of attire. I have taken the liberty of uploading these tapes into your computer; I secreted the original tapes among your belongings."

"Into my computer?! Ah, but your skill level is widely known. What else did you do to my computer? This is why he didn't tell me you were here." Konti's tone was bitter with self-reproach.

"Would Jim have done such a thing to you?" Spock asked quietly.

"No, I don't think so, but he didn't expect to live."

"You know Jim's character deeply. Would he betray you?"

Konti took a deep breath. "No, he wouldn't."

"And what did he tell you of me?"

"He did not remember you. He called you 'friend', but he calls his enemies 'friend' too." Konti clearly placed himself in the 'enemy' category.

"You are not his enemy, nor is Koh."

"With friends who do to him what we do, he doesn't need any enemies."

"Konti," he paused as if listening. "Jim would like for me to strongly admonish you to 'stop it.' He says you are feeling sorry for yourself, for him, and for me." He paused in surprise. "I am not sure I agree with that last. But he wishes to remind you that the Lord is big enough to handle this situation. Put your faith in what you know, not in what you see."

"But it's too much! I could see that it was too much. I ordered Koh to make it too much. And I tempted him to give in."

"Remember 280."

"How can he not care?! He just laughs at the idea of maximum pain. But even he can't stand what we are doing to him now. I know him! I could see that he can't stand it. And there's no end to it. Spock, I can't stand this." Konti was surprised that he would admit such a thing to a virtual stranger.

"You can stand it; you must. But I can give you a little information that may help. You are correct that Jim's soul cannot tolerate this level of pain. But Jesus in him can. He wishes me to thank you for making it worse."

"What!? Why?!" Konti clenched his fists, almost ready to attack Spock for voicing such a thought.

"The initial level of pain, while overwhelming, did not disturb his inner peace. He was quite content to be aware of nothing but unbearable agony for hours on end. Had you not pushed him beyond his toleration, he would have continued to be unaware of his surroundings, unable to talk, of no use to the Lord.

"Because you multiplied his pain, he was forced to deal with his inability to tolerate it. As a result, he has accessed the grace to operate out of his spirit, and more or less ignore his screaming senses." To Spock, this was eminently logical, but he could tell Konti was still reacting emotionally.

"As to there being no end to it, the present circumstances will not continue for eternity, so there is most definitely an end to it. Furthermore, I do not believe that imminent death is a near certainty for any of us. Therefore I conclude that what you really mean is that you do not see any way to avoid increasing the agony for the indefinite future."

Konti nodded agreement, and Spock went on.

"May I remind you that the Lord is not limited to what you or I can see in the situation. He called us here; he is well-able to preserve and deliver us. But the most important result of this conference is that no joint effort be established and agreed upon. What effect does Jim's presence have on the conference in this regard?"

"If he talks, the alliance would be well-cemented. Even if he doesn't, the Romulans may well want him anyway. At the point it looks like the alliance is really being established, I expect certain Klingon delegates to resort to violence. Kirk and myself are undoubtedly among their primary targets."

"And what does my presence do to the mix of factors?"

"You mean, if I took you in there?"

"That is what you will do. You found me in your cabin, trying to break into your computer. You overpowered me, then ascertained that my attempt was unsuccessful. I had not had sufficient time to overcome your extensive security measures." Spock's eyes twinkled with humor, but he didn't expect Konti to notice.

"I overpowered you - you certainly don't look overpowered."

"You could hit me in the face and rip my uniform."

"And the fact that you've actually been in here for hours doing heaven only knows what to my computer is beside the point. I'm supposed to cover my tail instead of admitting the truth," Konti retorted.

"Konti, you will survive this conference. When you have the leisure to examine your computer and find that I have only done what I said I did, remember this: I forgive you for not trusting me."

"Spock, you remind me of Kirk. I wish we could be friends."

"I consider you friend, just as Jim does," Spock quietly insisted.

"That doesn't mean you will four hours from now."

"Why would the passage of time change my opinion?"

Konti drew his disrupter and pointed it at Spock's belly, effectively changing the subject.

"I have much practice in doing that which I detest. I think we'll dispense with the violence. You, being a reasonable Vulcan, will hand over your phaser carefully. Now the communicator, and the tricorder. Koh will find out if you're carrying anything else. Now move, but don't try anything. I don't want to kill you, but I will if I have to."

*Come join the party, Spock. And don't underestimate Konti. He's a loyal Klingon warrior first, an astute diplomat second, and my friend third - in that order. He also knows me very well, and what he doesn't know, Koh does, and they will use that knowledge against us. They know that I expect them to. They don't know what you expect, so they'll take fewer risks.*

Spock entered the large room with Konti's disrupter pinned to his spine. He ignored the reactions of the delegates, but surreptitiously studied them as he walked over to Kirk. Gazing at him impassively, he judged Kirk would not reach physical exhaustion for at least 24 hours.

*The _Enterprise_ should be here long before that.*

*If she is not delayed. And if she can successfully battle the six ships in orbit.*

*You're as cheerful as McCoy in a bad mood.*

*I merely point out that relying on the _Enterprise_ for rescue has a number of flaws.*

*Point taken. We rely on the Lord, minute by minute.*

Konti was talking, and Spock gave his attention to Koh's approach.

"I've relieved him of the obvious hardware. Strip him and make sure he's clean."

"It will not be necessary for you to undress me."

Spock began removing his uniform and Konti did not object. When completely unclothed, Spock stood quietly while Koh ran the scanner. He discovered a small object behind Spock's left ear.

"It is a translator. I am not fluent in Klingon."

"You won't need it. We're all speaking Standard in here. Take it out, Koh."

Removing it was the work of a minute. Koh handed it to Konti, who dropped it on the floor and deliberately stepped on it. Spock did not react.

xxxx

"Captain," Uhura's tone was mild alarm. "I've lost the signal from Spock's translator."

"So he's been discovered. They expect us in six hours, not the twelve it's going to take us. And that's if nothing else goes wrong."

Young punched the intercom. "Young to Engineering. How much longer, Scotty?"

"It'll be another twenty minutes, sir. At least."

"Landing party's been discovered. All due haste would be appreciated."

"Understood, sir. I'll do ma best."

xxxx

Konti's next words surprised Spock.

"Get Kirk out of there, and put Spock in it."

"Sir?" Koh was clearly surprised also.

"Kirk can't stand it when somebody else is in pain because of him. The Vulcan can stand a lot more pain than a human - and all because Kirk won't talk."

"This is unnecessary. Captain Kirk will not be swayed by such tactics."

"The Vulcan is alarmed, Koh. Is it because of that mental link Delegate Rishon discovered? If they're linked mentally, will Kirk feel the Vulcan's pain? If so, will it kill him? Can the Vulcan shield him from it? Will he break the link in order to avoid killing Kirk? Koh, I want you to force them to break that link, so we can get at those Federation secrets."

"Konti, sir, you are asking the impossible. No one can force a Vulcan to do anything. He may decide to do so. But if he doesn't, they will both die without having told us anything," Koh predicted.

"Then they will die!"

"No, we won't."

Konti whirled to stare at Kirk, who had spoken.

"We will not break the link, and we will not die," Kirk insisted.

"It will be hours before the drug wears off, and for at least an hour, there'll be an echo effect - pain without stimulus," Koh reported.

"Only an hour? That's not bad," was Kirk's opinion.

"Koh, I don't want the drug to wear off. Keep his dosage at maximum intensity whether he's plugged in or not. You said we could keep this up for days, before the drug loses its effectiveness."

"Yes, we can. I have no idea whether the drug will have any effect on mentally perceived pain." Koh's disclaimer was mostly for the benefit of listening delegates.

"Well, find out then," Konti commanded harshly.

It took an hour for Kirk and Spock to switch places. Konti would have left Kirk completely unrestrained. But the delegates thought that a ridiculous idea. So Konti strung a line from Kirk's collar to the ceiling, which had enough slack to permit Kirk to lie down. Instead he did as extensive a calisthenics workout as he could manage, followed by stretching and massaging his own skin and muscles. By the time Kirk sat down, the echoes of pain had pretty much subsided. He watched Koh finish by putting the wires in Spock's back.

"Two millimeters to the left and four millimeters farther in."

"What?!" Startled, Koh lifted his hands and stepped back.

"The wire is incorrectly placed for the effect you desire. My anatomy differs slightly from that of Captain Kirk."

Kirk laughed at Koh's reaction. "Believe him, Koh. He knows his own body that precisely."

"If that is true, why would you tell me such a thing?"

"Merely saving time. The monitor would tell you immediately that it was not working properly, but it might have taken you some time to discern the source of the difficulty."

So Koh adjusted the wire, and placed the others to Spock's specification. Koh gave him the last three injections, and turned on the power. Spock remained motionless, his normal reaction to any such assault on his senses.

Kirk was immediately overwhelmed. It was worse than before, or seemed so to Kirk. The concept of worse than impossible had little practical meaning however. He fleetingly attempted to copy Spock's lack of reaction, but gave up almost immediately. He had kept the pain at bay before by doing calisthenics, but his mind wouldn't function well enough to even get started. In less than a minute, Kirk was flat on the floor, writhing in agony, and gasping for breath.

*Please, Jim.*

*No! They would know at once. We sink or swim on God's ability in me.*

And Kirk began to praise and thank the Lord for conquering this situation and delivering him from bondage to his senses. For a half hour, there was no change. Kirk was aware of the passage of time. He thought he was aware of his surroundings, though no one came near him, so he couldn't be sure. And Spock's presence was a solid rock.

*Spock, just for the record, you are not to break the link no matter how bad it gets. That's an order.*

*Jim, I cannot break the link without touching you.*

*You could if you had to. You've done it before.*

*No Jim, this link I cannot break. If you die, I will die. If I die, you will die. If my pain becomes so severe that it is killing you, I will lend you what strength I can, even though they will know I am doing it. Meanwhile I am grateful the Lord is upholding you.*

*Me too. My heart is at peace, even though my body is going crazy. It'd be easier if I could get the physical reaction under control. I'm getting exhausted.*

The Lord spoke to Kirk. _Jim, you are as yet nowhere near exhaustion. You are merely beginning to feel fatigued. Exhaustion is many hours away._

_ Why can't I control my body's reaction, Lord? I could before. What's different?_

_ You were not controlling it; I was. Those watching you need a visual display of the extremity to which this drives you. Afterwards, your love for them will be that much more powerful._

_ Konti and Koh know that I love them._

_ This will shake their faith in you. Proof of your love will be necessary for them. But I was really talking about all the rest. They do not know you at all, except by reputation._

_ Show me what to do, Lord._

_ In due time._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Chuck had narrowed the field to three most likely suspects. He was conferring with Young on the Bridge.

"The detonators are radio-powered, sir. He doesn't have to be anywhere near it to set off another explosion. But I've isolated the duties of various crew members. Other than Mr. Scott and myself, there are only three whose duties in the last week have enabled them to be alone in engineering."

"Good work, Chuck. How can we nail it down to just one?"

Before Chuck could respond, the ship gave a lurch as another internal explosion detonated.

"Report!" Young barked to the Bridge in general.

"Helm's responding, sir. Engines seem to be fine," Sulu reported.

"Damage report coming in, sir." Uhura paused to listen.

In the silence, everyone heard the air circulation fans cut out.

"It's life support, sir. Two injured, one dead. And Captain, the life support computer system is a shambles."

"Call a medic team, Uhura."

"Yes, sir."

"Bridge to Engineering. Mr. Scott!"

"Aye, sir."

"We've just lost the life support system computer. How long can we survive without it, and how long will it take to fix it?"

"Much too long, sir. The manual says eight minutes. I might be able to reroute it through auxiliary control, but even that can't be done in eight minutes."

"How long, Scotty?"

"Twenty minutes maybe, assuming there's no sabotage in Auxiliary Control."

"Get on it then. We're going to prove the manual's wrong."

"Aye, aye, sir. Scott out."

Young touched the all-call switch.

"All hands, this is the Captain. Everyone, stop whatever you're doing, right now, and sit down, on the floor if necessary. For the next twenty minutes, I want you to use as little air as possible. Don't talk, don't eat, don't move around. If you're closer than six feet to someone else, spread out, but do it slowly. We've lost our life support computer, and it's going to take approximately twenty minutes to rig an alternative. Captain out."

"Uhura, check with all essential posts. If it doesn't take any more air, I'd like to keep moving."

"Yes, sir. One moment."

"Captain," Chuck interposed.

"What is it, Chuck?"

"It occurs to me that our saboteur might take this opportunity to escape."

"Quite possibly." He punched the intercom. "Bridge to Security."

"Yes, sir," came the response.

"Take a team and secure the hangar deck. The saboteur may try to escape."

"Right away, sir."

"Captain, request permission to assist," Chuck asked.

"Go ahead, Chuck. You too, Chekov."

They departed, leaving six still on the Bridge. Young had three of them lie down, leaving only Sulu, Uhura, and himself at their posts. Quiet descended as they each tried to breathe as little as possible.

"Sir," Uhura spoke quietly. "All posts have reported. They've put all systems on automatic, except weapons. One crewman there is standing by in case of attack."

"God preserve us from that additional problem!"

"Captain," put in Sulu, "I've put the helm and navigation on automatic too, so even if I pass out, we're still functional."

"Sir?" It was Martin on the upper right deck, speaking from the floor.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" Young acknowledged.

"The human brain can be revived after several minutes without oxygen. But if Mr. Scott loses consciousness before finishing his work..."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Seal off Auxiliary Control, and pump extra oxygen in there."

"Lieutenant Burns, can that be done?"

"Aye, sir, but Mr. Scott may not be in Aux Control yet. The first part of his work would be in Life Support."

"Bridge to Mr. Scott."

"Aye, sir?"

"Scotty, where are you?"

"Corridor 10B, deck 9. I can't give you any better estimate til I see what's in Aux Control."

"Which will be when?"

"Give me another five minutes."

"Thanks Scotty. And be careful. The saboteur could be anywhere."

"Aye, sir. Scott out."

"Bridge to Security."

"Yes, sir."

"Take another team and secure Auxiliary Control. Mr. Scott is the only one to be allowed in."

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

"One other thing."

"Yes, sir?"

"What report do you have from the Hangar Deck?"

"Nothing as yet, sir."

"Check on it then. I sent Byrd and Chekov to assist, and I haven't heard anything either."

"Yes, sir."

"Captain," Uhura interrupted, "Chuck is calling in now."

"Put him through."

"Captain, Byrd here. Hangar Deck is secured. And we found the saboteur, sir. He was hiding in one of the shuttles."

"Good work, Chuck. What condition is the prisoner in? Any injuries or damage?"

"We're fine. Prisoner's out cold from a double stun charge. He tried to fire up the shuttle, but the failsafe override wouldn't let him. Damage is minor. I've been thinking though, Captain. This Hangar Deck's got a lot more air in it than the nine of us need."

"Understood. I'll get back to you on that in a few minutes. Meanwhile, stay put."

"Yes, sir. Byrd out."

"Bridge to Tanzer."

"Yes, Captain."

"How are things on the Rec Deck?"

"Considering, not bad. It's not every day we get an eight-minute warning."

"I didn't say-"

"You didn't have to, sir. It's common knowledge."

"No panic then?"

"No, sir. It's a good crew you've got."

"I know. What's the head count on the Rec Deck?"

"Rough estimate, I'd say about 150."

"Send 75 of them to the Hangar Deck, slowly."

"Thank you, sir. That will help a lot."

"You're welcome. We're not dead yet. Young out."

"Uhura, inform Mr. Byrd of the expected arrivals. Mr. Burns, what sources of oxygen does this ship have?"

"Each deck has two emergency supply closets. But the amount of oxygen in those tanks is insufficient, sir. They're not designed to serve the entire ship, only to allow personnel to evacuate a damaged area."

"What else?"

"There's the e-suit tanks. They've got a bit more, but even a two-hour supply for one person doesn't go very far in a room full of people."

"Lieutenant Martin, opinions?"

"Well, sir, personnel in the engineering hull should be fine, if we seal it off from the primary hull. Two reasons: the ratio of cubic inches of air per person is much lower, and they have the oxygen generator. They can bypass the controls and rig a fan for local use."

"Should we move all personnel to the secondary hull then?"

"No, sir. What works for a hundred would not work for four hundred."

"Very well. Uhura, call engineering. Presumably Scotty's thought of all this, but let's be sure. Burns and Martin, put your heads together - not literally - and come up with a recommendation for maximizing the oxygen we have."

"Sir, I have Mr. Scott."

"Cap'n, some of the news is good. There's no direct sabotage in Auxiliary Control - it's almost as if he didn't know this place was here; very odd, that."

"But..."

Scott sighed. "The bad news is I underestimated the time. The damage in Life Support was more extensive than I thought. I know it's been ten minutes already, but it's going to be at least fifteen more, maybe twenty."

"Are you alone? Would help make any difference in the time?"

"Unless the help's name was Spock, I doubt it."

"You'll have the next best thing in under five. Young out."

"Sulu, you have the conn. When Martin and Burns come up with a plan, get Byrd and Chekov to implement it. They're already down there. I'll be in Auxiliary Control."

"Yes, sir." Sulu stood up as Young exited the Bridge. The air was already becoming foul.

"Everybody move to a new location. Find some fresher air in here."

Uhura moved to Chekov's chair. Sulu stood in front of the main screen. Burns and Martin stood up and moved over a few feet. Rish opened the door to the head.

"All right, Martin, what have you got?"

"I still think we should seal off the secondary hull. Then at least some of us would be alive."

"Would you like to be trapped in the engineering hull of a ship hurtling through enemy territory at Warp 8, with no one at the helm?"

"Well, maybe not."

"Uhura, any word from engineering on rigging a fan for the oxygen generator?"

"They're working on it. There are problems. I didn't press for details."

"All right. Back to you, Martin. What about the O2 tanks?"

"Decks 2-5 and 25-30 each have four tanks. Decks 6-24 each have eight tanks. Here on the Bridge we have two tanks. Aux Control also has two tanks. Each of these tanks has ten minutes of air for one person. That's 150 tanks for 300 people. Then there's the e-suits. Ten airlocks each with five suits is 50 tanks, each of which holds two hours of air. The problem will be sharing amongst three people, rather than running out. Oh, and Sickbay has its own supply."

"Bridge to Sickbay."

"McCoy here. You in charge up there, Sulu?"

"Yes, Doctor. Captain Young is helping Scotty. How's your air supply?"

"We're okay, but we're sealed off. So no one can come or go."

"What's your head count?"

"Staff and patients total 17 right now."

"Thanks, Doctor. Sulu out."

"Bridge to Cmdr Byrd."

"Byrd here, still on the Hangar Deck."

"How's your air supply?"

"Running a bit low. Not quite desperate yet."

"Send details to fetch the e-suit tanks from airlocks six through ten. The Rec Deck is getting the other half."

"Yes, sir. Byrd out."

Sulu called Tanzer, then hit the all-call.

"Attention, all hands. As your air supply runs low, slowly make your way to the emergency supply closets located next to the lift on each deck. After obtaining a ten-minute air tank, report to either the Rec Deck or Hangar Deck, whichever is closer. You are reminded to move slowly; use only as much air as necessary. Bridge out."

Sulu turned to Uhura. "Make sure the guy in weapons has two tanks of air." He turned to the others. "You three get below. Uhura and I will hold the Bridge."

"Sir, shall I bring you more O2 tanks?"

"No, Burns, we'll manage with the two we've got."

When the others had left, Sulu fetched the two tanks and brought them to Uhura.

"These are for you. Put one on now. If I pass out, you can give me a breath or two every now and then."

"Sulu! I'm more expendable at the moment than you! This is no time for chivalry."

"Then neither of us opens the O2 for the next five minutes, unless the other has already passed out."

xxxx

Chuck sent Chekov and four security guards to fetch the O2 tanks. While they were gone, he divided the personnel into groups of four. Before this was over, he might have to put five on one tank, but he would start with four. Also, he filled the shuttles with twelve people each, picked more or less at random. He did include the prisoner and two guards. When this was all over, he wanted to make sure that prisoner was alive to answer questions.

xxxx

"Sulu!" Uhura was calling him. "Wake up! Come on; don't die on me, Sulu!"

"Wha- What happened?" He sat up, realizing as he did so that an air hose was attached to his nose.

"You passed out before I did, so I opened the tanks."

"How long has it been?"

"You lasted six minutes. Now we have ten minutes of air. At the end of that time, it will have been twenty-nine minutes since we lost life support."

"Any word from Scotty?"

"No, and I haven't wanted to delay them by asking."

"Can we make this air last longer by sharing one tank and then the other?"

"Worth a try."

xxxx

By the time Chuck had distributed twenty-five air tanks amongst the personnel on the Hangar Deck, other personnel were arriving. He and Chekov directed traffic for another five minutes, occasionally taking a breath of air from one of the tanks, just to keep them on their feet. As the influx trickled to a halt, Chuck gazed over the heads of the crowd at Chekov, the only other one standing. All the tanks were being shared by five people. There was no air supply for Chuck or Chekov. They spent the next fifteen minutes making the rounds, taking one breath from each tank. By now the supply in the tanks was getting low.

Chekov called out, "I've an idea."

"Need help?" Chuck coughed out.

"Nope."

Chekov took one last breath and dashed out the door. Two minutes later the decompression alarms went off. Chuck heard the air being pumped out. A minute later, the alarms stopped. Air was drawn back in. But this air coming through the floor vents was fresh. Chuck breathed deeply and smiled. Looking up at the observation port, he gave Chekov a thumbs up. Two minutes later, Chekov repeated the maneuver. Then Chuck motioned for him to return. There was enough air for several minutes now.

When Chekov reappeared, Chuck asked how he'd accomplished the feat.

Chekov grinned. "I told the computer the Hangar Deck was being taken over by a hostile force."

"Computers will believe anything," and Chuck laughed. "Can you do it again if we have to?"

"Probably, but the air is recycled. Too many times, and I'm just recycling foul air."

"How many more times, do you think?"

"Spock would know, but I'd guess two or three more."

Chuck had everybody turn off the air tanks until the air was again too foul to breathe. Two minutes later, the air circulation fans kicked in.

"All hands, this is the Captain. We have restored air circulation. However, it will take several minutes for the foul air to be flushed out. Please remain where you are, if you have sufficient air to do so. Thank you all for your patience."

xxxx

Konti returned to the meeting room after a meal. He felt guilty eating, but appearances must be maintained. He brought Koh some food and stood gazing at Spock and Kirk. Spock still looked completely unaffected by his circumstances. Kirk, on the other hand, continued to display the agony he was experiencing. Face contorted, body shaking and twitching, breathing ragged, fists alternately clenched or clawing the floor, feet kicking and pounding the floor, Kirk still did not scream.

"Koh, why isn't he screaming?"

"I have no data on mentally perceived pain. Even the double drug did not make him scream. But sir, for him, screaming is no indication of willingness to talk."

"Koh, there's got to be a limit! Even for him!"

"Konti, you remember what this feels like? Multiply it by a factor of four, and you'll approximate what he's feeling right now. Look at him! You tell me; is there a limit?"

"There _has_ to be! When is it time for the next dose of that drug?"

"Now, but Konti, I can't guarantee it won't kill him."

"Will it kill Spock?"

"No."

"Have it ready then, but wait for my command."

Konti went to find the Romulan who could do a Vulcan mind-meld.

*Jim, they are about to double the intensity.*

*Hard to conceive of, but thanks for the warning.*

*Koh thinks it may kill you.*

*If you feel me slipping away, you can help me fight it, but not at the expense of the data shield. Protect the data even if we both go down with the ship.*

*Understood.*

Kirk heard footsteps approach.

"Kirk, can you hear me?"

Hearing a tone of concern, Kirk was alarmed and opened his eyes fractionally. Konti was leaning over him, his face within arm's reach. Kirk slapped Konti's face, hard.

*Jim, was that wise?*

*Can't be helped. Konti was losing it.*

Konti bellowed with rage, and reached for Kirk's throat. He stopped himself short, stood and stepped back. Taking a deep breath to get himself under control, he spoke quietly, his voice dripping with contempt.

"Very clever, Kirk. But it won't work. You will not provoke me into killing you. You cannot protect those secrets that way."

*Nice theory, but if that were my intent, I'd be on my feet attacking him right now. Does he think I can't?*

*Possibly.*

The Romulan was speaking. "I can't do what you ask if he is not restrained."

*Uh-oh. Spock, get ready.*

*I had no such warning the first time. Do not worry. He cannot penetrate my shield. He has not the skill.*

Konti called to Koh. "Bring restraints. Immobilize him."

"Yes, sir, but I remind you, he feels more pain without restraints."

*What nonsense is this?*

*Koh is providing Konti with an excuse.*

*But what for?*

*He desires your assistance when violence breaks out.*

*Of course. I must be tired.*

*More distracted than fatigued.*

In any event, Konti opted for the restraints. So they put Kirk on a table and strapped him down. Kirk was grateful the straps controlled some of the reaction. He tried to relax, knowing it was useless.

"Kirk, this is your last chance." Konti's voice no longer carried a tone of concern. "Talk now, or you're going to be sorry. If you think you're in agony now, just wait til we double it, and then double that. Shortly before you die in screaming agony, you will spill all those secrets. Trust me, you will have no choice. You'll do it without even knowing you did it. You can save yourself from that fate by talking now. You will even be allowed to live. As soon as you start talking, I'll turn off the pain. No more pain, Kirk, if you talk."

"No," was Kirk's answer.

Without another word, Konti gestured at the Romulan, who placed his fingers on Kirk's face.

*Hi, I'm Jim. And you are...*

*Rishon. I will take what I want from your mind.*

*No, you won't. Spock won't let you. If you intend to stay, you're in for a wild ride. Feel free to leave any time. We won't object.*

*Spock will let go of your mind when the pain becomes too severe.*

*If you think that, you don't know Spock.*

Koh applied the drug to Spock.

*Jim-*

*Hang on, Spock. I'm not leaving without a fight.*


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Double agony exploded in Kirk's mind and blotted out all other thought, at least for the moment.

Konti watched Rishon stagger and almost fall, but recover himself without losing contact with Kirk. Kirk's body went completely rigid, he stopped breathing, his mouth opened in a silent scream. There was no change for over a minute. Then Kirk gasped for air and began shaking violently.

_Jesus! Help!_

Kirk heard the words but didn't know who said them - must be Spock. As thought returned, he felt Rishon pressing against Spock's shield.

*You're wasting your time.*

*What!? How can you be coherent?*

*The grace of God. Before you leave, there is one thing I want to tell you.*

*What's that?*

*When the violence starts, defend yourselves, but don't get drawn in.*

*What are you talking about?*

*There are several factions of Klingons here, all with different goals.*

Kirk felt Koh's hypos.

*You better get out of here while you can.*

Rishon did not reply.

Kirk felt darkness closing in almost immediately. He fought it with everything in him. He thought he heard a voice.

*Come here, Jim.*

It sounded like Spock, but he couldn't be sure. And it was calling him into the darkness. He continued to fight it.

*Jim! Let me help you! Stop fighting me!*

Kirk let Spock draw him into the darkness. He'd been trusting that voice for years; now was no time to stop.

*Where are we?*

*You are unconscious. Had you continued to fight it, you might now be dead. I could have done this for you before. Even now, Rishon will know what I have done.*

Konti saw Kirk go limp.

"Koh! Turn it off! Is he dead?"

Koh hit the power switch and came over with the scanner.

"No, he's alive, just barely."

Rishon withdrew and stood erect. "Spock is protecting him, and I cannot penetrate the shield."

*How long do we stay here?*

*It would be logical for them to have turned it off.*

*Yes, and they'll turn it back on as soon as I wake up. Over and over again, til my body acquires sufficient tolerance. We've done this a lot.*

*Jim, it is not a question of your body's tolerance. This is a battle of the mind.*

*I understand that. So how do we win it?*

*I believe that Rishon is the weak link. He thinks you are the weak link. We must make it impossible for him to continue, while keeping you alive.*

*You call the shots, Spock.*

"Konti, he's conscious."

"Wait for Rishon, then turn it back on."

The pain was immediately worse than absolutely awful, and Kirk fought the darkness with all of his strength, until Spock called him.

*Jim-*

Kirk slipped into unconsciousness.

*I don't like running to hide.*

*I know, but dying is not yet an unavoidable necessity. As long as you come immediately when I call, I can push it much closer to the edge.*

*I trust you, Spock.*

After two more repetitions, Rishon spoke to Konti.

"Spock is playing with Kirk's life. He leaves him uncovered until Kirk almost dies, before offering the protection of unconsciousness."

"Why?"

"He hopes that I cannot tolerate the pain either."

"What about the shield?"

"As impenetrable as ever. Given the power of Spock's mind, as long as they remain in unity, the shield remains secure against me. The moment Kirk rebels against what Spock is doing to him, the shield will crack. No one can tolerate this level of pain."

"Can you?"

"Longer than he can. I must."

The fight went on for over two hours. At first, each round only lasted a few minutes. As Kirk got used to it, however, he could tolerate longer periods of agony. And he never stayed unconscious more than a few minutes, just long enough to recover from being on the brink of death.

Kirk did not speak to Rishon, but took to making eye contact before each round. He and Spock did not speak much either. An occasional word of encouragement to let Spock know he was fine. They both devoted their energy to the task at hand. Words were, for the most part, unnecessary. When Kirk was up to twenty-minute rounds, he noticed Rishon was becoming reluctant to engage.

*Don't stop now, Spock. We've got him on the run.*

The last round was thirty minutes.

*I'm almost ready to tolerate this without breaks.*

*Perhaps it won't be necessary.*

Kirk opened his eyes, but Rishon did not appear. Instead Konti came into view. Kirk just barely resisted grinning at him, but the warmth of love shown clearly in his eyes for a moment before he covered it, not wanting Konti to lose control.

Konti gazed at him in silence, his face unreadable.

"Koh, take off these restraints."

As Koh complied, Konti glanced around to confirm that all the delegates were there. They were. It had been an intense couple of hours, as they watched the fight between Kirk and Rishon. Konti turned back to Kirk.

"Stand up."

Kirk complied, albeit rather slowly. His muscles were protesting all the tension of the past hours.

"You wanted to talk. The delegates are all here. If you can retain your feet and talk coherently, while Koh turns it on and off at random, then we will listen."

"Lord Jesus, help me!"

It sounded completely impossible to Kirk. But he had wanted a demonstration of the impossible. He chuckled.

"This experience of the impossible far exceeds my expectations. I want you all to know that if I succeed in doing this, it will be through the power of the Lord Jesus Christ working in me. I myself do not have the ability, not even with Spock's help."

The pain hit him like a ton of bricks. He was on the floor before he knew what hit him. As he realized where he was, Kirk began struggling to his feet. He made it to his knees, sternly telling his body that it didn't matter what this felt like, he _could_ do this. From there to his feet was another matter. It took him ten minutes, and he fell three times. Finally, he grabbed the line attached to his collar, and used it to pull himself to his feet. Swaying erratically, he clutched the line with both hands.

_This won't do,_ he told himself. _Jesus, if you want me to talk to these people, I need a miracle._

He planted his feet, took a deep breath, and let go of the line with his left hand. He was visibly shaking, but he did not go down. He wound the line around his right arm for an anchor, and looked at the delegates. He spoke slowly but clearly.

"You are looking at a miracle. If you don't believe me, ask Spock whether I can do this."

"If it's a miracle," called out one of the Romulans, "then let go of the line."

Kirk slowly unwound his arm and let go, lowering his right arm to his side. The shaking did not abate, but neither did he fall over. Kirk kept his attention focused on the delegates.

"I want to tell you Who this person is that can provide things like the miracle you're looking at. I met Him roughly two years ago. My senior officers and I were being held prisoner..."

Without giving away who exactly held them prisoner, Kirk shared the story of his conversion. He followed that with a clear presentation of the Gospel and basic Christian doctrine. He held them spellbound for almost three hours. The story was compelling enough, but his response to the pain had them staring in awe.

Koh turned it off and on repeatedly, and the only difference in Kirk was that the shaking stopped. When he turned it back on, the shaking resumed, with hardly a pause in his narrative. At one point, someone interrupted with an accusation that the pain must have abated. Koh declared that it had not, but they didn't believe him.

"You desire further proof. Rishon could get it for you," Kirk offered.

"I am not fully recovered from my previous encounters," Rishon admitted.

"Be healed, in the name of Jesus," Kirk prayed.

Rishon immediately fell over backwards, holding his head, and laughing. The other delegates were alarmed.

"What did you do to him?!"

"Relax; he'll be fine. But it'll take him awhile to recover, so Rishon's not available to provide your proof. I can ask the Lord to lift the anointing briefly, and you can watch me fall apart. Koh, turn it off for a minute." The shaking stopped. "Now, when he turns it back on, you'll see what happens without the Lord's power."

Kirk stood calmly waiting. The pain washed over him like a tidal wave and left him gasping for air, flat on his back, rigid with tension. The idea of standing up and talking seemed again incredibly impossible. But he tried anyway. Forcing his body to obey him, he rolled over and got his hands under him. It took him three tries to get to his knees. But he couldn't get to his feet. Every time he tried, he fell over. After fifteen minutes, Koh turned it off. Kirk took a deep breath and got up.

"Now, where were we?" And he resumed his story as if uninterrupted. When Koh turned it back on, the shaking began again, but that was all. And Kirk effectively ignored the shaking. An hour and a half later, he was still talking.

"Now you may wonder what all that has to do with you and this conference. I came here for the express purpose of telling you about Jesus and showing you His power. I did not come here to be a pawn in the struggle for power between governments. It should be evident by now that as a source of Federation secrets, I am of no value to you.

"The purpose of this conference was to establish an alliance between Klingons and Romulans in order to defeat the Federation. I am opposed to such an alliance, but not for the obvious reason. I hate war because innocent people get hurt. Killing people does not fix problems or resolve conflicts. If established, this alliance would give you the confidence to start a war. Many would die, Klingons and Romulans, as well as people of the Federation.

"Without this alliance, neither of you feel strong enough to start a war, especially one that might have to be waged on two fronts. At least that is the majority opinion in your governments. How do I know? Simple: you haven't started a war. But there are always individuals who want war for personal reasons, usually because the only route to fame, glory, and power is through the exploits of war.

"I am a warrior. I can wage war when it is necessary. Some of you may have had occasion to know how well. But I avoid it if at all possible. I don't need war to get me what I want. I don't have to kill somebody to feel that I have truly lived. I don't need an enemy to keep me sharp and not careless. I don't need to conquer anyone to give me a sense of power. Love is greater than hate. It's more powerful than the forces of war.

"Rishon, you looked recovered. I have a few questions. Had you any personal contact with me before today?"

"No."

"Did you consider me friend, enemy, or neither?"

"Enemy, of course."

"Other than denying you access to secrets, have I treated you as an enemy?"

"No," Rishon admitted.

"One last question: do you consider this experience with the power of Jesus positive or negative?"

"Positive," was the reluctant admission.

"I would like for all of you to know Jesus and experience His power. But He will not force you, nor shall I. I do not consider any of you my enemies, regardless of how much you choose to believe of what I have said. I would welcome the opportunity to speak with you individually. Thank you for listening."

Kirk immediately collapsed to the floor, again overcome by the pain. Konti ignored him and turned to the delegation.

"Well?"

A brief silence was followed by everyone talking at once. As Konti sorted out the responses, it was clear that a majority still wanted to break Kirk. And they did not understand most of what he'd said. Was this the time to declare himself? No, it would only lose him what advantage he had. The situation was still much too volatile. He turned to Koh.

"Start increasing the Vulcan's pain."

Koh looked appalled, but complied without protest. Konti gazed again at Kirk. He had said love was more powerful, but Konti had no illusions that Kirk could still love him after this, if he even survived it.

xxxx

It had taken about an hour for things to return to normal. Chuck had interviewed the prisoner, but learned nothing useful. Maybe Spock could do better, assuming he was still alive. They were about an hour away from the rendezvous, and Young had called a senior officers' briefing.

"Please be seated." They sat. "Scotty, your report first."

"She's holdin' together, sir. Wi' all th' damage, she'll need some time at a starbase when this's over."

"Indeed. Thank you. Chuck?"

"Interrogation of the prisoner has not produced any useful answers. But at least we shouldn't have any more sabotage."

"You think he was working alone then?"

"It's still an assumption, and I don't even know whether he's the agent of some organized force, or on a personal vendetta of some kind. Maybe Spock could get answers out of him."

"We can hope that will be an option. Which brings us to the matter at hand. We are over six hours late, but we'll be there in less than an hour. The message said six vessels. Any ideas on how we deal with six to one odds?"

The general opinion was that it would be suicide to engage a battle with that many hostiles. There was some talk of trying to get them to battle each other. But the prevailing opinion was that talk was the best solution. It could be hoped that their very presence would intimidate the alliance-makers. After a brief prayer, they returned to the Bridge.

"ETA ten minutes, sir," reported Sulu.

"Long range sensors show six vessels in orbit, Captain," volunteered Lt. Martin.

"Chekov, compute me an orbit that puts us right in the middle of them."

"Aye, Keptin. That will put us directly over the planetary installation, sir."

"So much the better."

"Course laid in, sir," Chekov reported.

"Implement."

"Yes, sir," Sulu acknowledged.

Tense silence as they all wondered if Captain Kirk and Spock were still alive. Even McCoy said nothing. Chuck stood to the right of Young's chair, and felt privileged to be there. Kirk had challenged him to know these people as friends, and he did. They had accepted him as one of them, just as they had with Young.

"Dropping out of warp now, sir." Sulu's hands were steady on the controls.

"Both factions are hailing us, Captain. Demanding ID codes."

"No reply, Uhura."

"Vessels are raising shields, sir," Martin reported from the Science station.

"Orbit in two minutes," Sulu added.

"Weapons powering up, sir."

"Hold steady."

It was a long two minutes.

"Synchronized orbit achieved, sir."

"Open a channel, Uhura. Wide band."

"Go ahead, sir."

"This is Joshua Young, Captain of the _USS Enterprise_. I wish to speak to whoever's in charge of this conference."

xxxx

When Konti gave the order, Koh set the pain generator to automatically increase. But he set the rate of increase fractionally small, hoping Kirk could adjust before it killed him. Spock's tolerance was not yet in question. For over an hour, Kirk lay on the floor in obvious agony. Finally he retreated into unconsciousness. Koh guessed that Spock had insisted.

Since Spock was also unconscious, Koh paused the accelerator, holding the pain level steady. But he did not turn it off. The shock of zero to max was much harder to take. As long as the delegates weren't peering over his shoulder asking questions, he would make this as easy as possible. Not that he saw any way out for Kirk, but he would delay the inevitable as long as he could.

A few minutes later, they woke up, and Koh turned the accelerator back on. Five minutes later, they were unconscious again. For the next hour, they went back and forth every few minutes. Koh was certain Spock was controlling it, because the periods of unconsciousness were so precisely timed. He marveled that Kirk would let himself be so thoroughly controlled by another.

Suddenly Koh's attention was distracted, and he neglected to turn on the accelerator as they woke up. A guard had entered and was in obviously agitated conversation with Konti.

Spock's sensitive hearing picked up the entire exchange.

"I am sorry to interrupt, sir."

"You'd better be," Konti growled.

"The subcommander said you had turned your communicator off, sir."

"So? Get to the point!"

"A Federation vessel, sir! Says it's the _Enterprise_!"

"Where?!"

"In orbit, sir, directly overhead. Her captain has demanded to speak with you, sir."

"Her captain?! Does this captain have a name?"

"Yes, sir. Captain Joshua Young, I think he said."

"This is Kadat's fault. Get him down here, heavily escorted. I want to talk to him. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir. And about the _Enterprise_, sir?"

"Put the call through. I'll talk to him."

Konti would have preferred to talk to Young in private, but he didn't dare leave the room. All hell could break loose at any time. He looked over at Kirk, still writhing in agony. Not possible that Kirk hadn't known the _Enterprise_ was coming. Why had he implied she wasn't?

Spock didn't understand Klingon, but Kirk did.

*_Enterprise_ is here. Konti's going to blame it on Kadat.*

*Unwise to bring Kadat into this room?*

*Better to know where he is. Anyway, I wish the _Enterprise_ had stayed home.*

*The Admiral would not have let you come alone.*

*I know.*

xxxx

"I have Commander Konti, sir. Audio only."

"Put him on speakers, Uhura."

"Konti is Captain Kirk's -um, owner, sir," she volunteered.

"I recognize the name, thanks."

"_This is Commander Konti of the Klingon Imperial High Command. Who are you and what are you doing here?!_"

"Joshua Young, Captain, _USS Enterprise_. I have reason to believe you are holding two Federation Starfleet officers."

"_There is no one here in a Federation uniform. And if there were, it is presumed that you know the treatment that spies receive. All of which does not explain what you are doing here._"

"I am here to retrieve those officers you say you don't have. But it might interest you to note that if any of the six vessels up here fire on us, I will immediately fire on your planetary installation. How long can you sustain phaser fire in your present position?"

"_I do not personally command all those vessels._"

"Then talk to whoever does, and get back to me. Young out."

Uhura cut the connection.

"Sir," it was Martin. "Sensors indicate 26 life-forms on the planet: 18 Klingon, 7 Romulan, and one human."

"Could one of those Romulans be Vulcan?"

"Possibly."

"Could we beam all 26 out of there?"

"Not all at once."

"How many are in the same room as Kirk?"

"Twenty - all but six of the Klingons."

"Kirk and Spock are in a room with six Romulans and twelve Klingons?"

"Yes, sir, but five of the Klingons beamed down after we got here."

"Could we take Kirk, Spock, and all six Romulans?"

"Might be able to take Spock and the Romulans, but not Kirk at the same time. But it's pretty crowded in there. The transporter may not be able to isolate the signals. More likely they could isolate Kirk's signal, but not if he's closely surrounded."

"Keptin, if you take all the Romulans, those wessels may decide to fire on us, having nothing to lose."

"Point taken, Chekov. All right, beaming them out doesn't sound practical. Other suggestions?"

"I'll take a landing party down - take them out by force," Chuck volunteered.

"Captain," Uhura put in, "I don't think Captain Kirk and Spock wanted to be rescued. They came here to disrupt the alliance. Removing them from the scene may not be what the Captain needs right now."

"And the only way to find out what is needed is to get down there. Chuck-"

"Captain, Konti is on the line."

"Put him on."

"_Captain Young, the vessels surrounding you demand some assurance from you before they will stand down from weapons readiness. They require that you and your First Officer beam down and join us on the planet. Only then will they believe that you will not fire on the planet, whether or not they fire on you first._"

"And what assurance do I have that you will not seize us as prisoners?"

"_None, Captain. I didn't invite you here._"

"Very well. Send us the coordinates. We'll be there in five minutes."

xxxx

Konti pocketed his communicator and walked over to Kadat.

"What do you know about this Captain Young?"

"Nothing."

"You told me Kirk was Captain of the _Enterprise_, and Spock his First Officer."

"He is."

"A ship cannot have two captains."

"He was on the _Enterprise_, wearing a captain's uniform."

Konti turned away in disgust. He should probably kill Kadat here and now, but he didn't want to. Doubtless, he would regret putting it off. He walked over to Koh.

"Do we have any way to restrain additional prisoners in here?"

"Not really. I could take the line attaching Kirk to the ceiling, and cut it into lengths for tying wrists."

"Leaving Kirk unrestrained?"

"Does anybody really think Kirk's capable of going anywhere?"

"Certainly doesn't look like it. Can he hear what's going on? Would he hear if I questioned him?"

"I don't know if his mind can focus on it, but he's conscious at the moment."

"Does this key do what I think it does?" Konti's voice was pitched low, as he picked up the key.

"Yes, sir," was Koh's non-committal response.

Konti stepped around Spock and approached Kirk.

"Kirk! Can you hear me?" Konti was careful not to get too close.

Kirk did not respond.

"Who is the Captain of the _Enterprise_?"

Still no response. Konti turned away.

*What was that all about?*

*I am uncertain of his purpose. It is unlikely that he wishes to gloat.*

*Unless he's performing, which is quite likely. What was that about a key?*

*I believe he picked up the key he referred to, and kept it.*

*Hmm - I wonder...*

*Quite possibly.*


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Young and Chuck beamed down outside the compound, and were ushered into the large central building by guards holding aimed disrupters. Chuck scanned the interior with a practiced eye. There was a second entrance opposite the one they had used. No doors indicated any other interior rooms. The center of the room contained conference table and chairs, but it was unoccupied.

Instead, groups of people were gathered in small knots: six Romulans in the far corner, five Klingons in the near corner, five more in another corner. Midway along the left wall was a collection of equipment. One Klingon stood at a console, and another nearby. A figure lay on the floor, writhing in pain, and the last occupant of the room looked like a statue. But he turned his head in their direction, and Chuck realized with a shock that it was Spock. And the figure on the floor was Kirk.

Konti approached the newcomers.

"Which of you is Captain Young?" he asked, though he knew by the uniform.

"I am," Young replied calmly.

"I am Konti. Who is this?" referring to Chuck.

"Commander Byrd, my First Officer."

Chuck nodded, but said nothing.

"I will leave you your communicators, but I cannot permit the phasers."

He gestured, and the guard took their phasers.

"I regret that I cannot offer to make you comfortable, but you have, after all, interrupted this meeting."

"You said you did not have my officers. You lied!"

Konti bristled, but controlled himself. "I said, there was no one in a Federation uniform here, and there isn't."

"What have you done to them!? I demand-"

"You are in no place to demand anything!"

Young controlled his anger. "I respectfully request that you allow me to beam down our medical officer. His internal injuries must be severe if he's in that much pain."

Konti laughed, harsh and ugly. He turned and strode to Kirk. Young would have followed, but the guards barred his way.

"Hear that, Kirk? Young thinks you have internal injuries." And he laughed again.

Kirk did not respond.

"Young, come over here. You too, Byrd."

The guards reluctantly let them approach.

"Watch this: Koh, turn it off."

They watched Kirk's body slowly relax. He took one deep breath, opened his eyes, and looked at Konti. Carefully schooled non-expression, but Chuck got the fleeting impression Kirk was waiting for Konti to do something.

Konti looked at Young. "Kirk has been in unspeakable agony for hours on end, and he still refuses to talk. Perhaps you would be more amenable to persuasion. Or maybe your first officer?"

Kirk was on his feet instantly. "No!"

Konti laughed that harsh, ugly sound again. "I wondered if you were as far gone as you looked. So you don't want me to put Young where Spock is? Don't tell me you're mentally linked to everybody!?"

"No!" Kirk yelled again, and dove at Konti, grabbing his tunic with his fists.

The guards were alarmed, but could do nothing without harming Konti.

"Koh! Turn it on!"

Konti removed Kirk's fists from his tunic as Kirk slumped to the floor. He managed to fall closer to Spock than he'd been before. His body was rigid with tension, the key Konti had just passed him firmly clutched in his fist. Spock insisted on unconsciousness.

*You are of no use if you are dead.*

*Okay, Spock, but I don't want to lose this key.*

*Put your fist under you.*

One last convulsion, and Kirk managed to insert the fist holding the key between his body and the floor, where he hoped it would stay.

Konti watched Kirk impassively, then drew his knife, and cut the line attached to Kirk's collar. He smiled grimly as Young and Byrd gasped, thinking he was about to kill Kirk. He cut three lengths of cord, leaving the rest dangling from the ceiling. Gesturing the guards to bring Young and Byrd, Konti went to the back wall behind Koh's equipment.

Lining the two up side by side with their backs to the wall, Konti tied Byrd's left wrist to Young's right. Then he attached the other wrist of each to the wall behind them. This done, he dismissed the guard and left them alone.

Konti paused by Koh's console and muttered in Klingon. "You may have only seconds to remove the wires."

Koh did not reply. Konti moved on.

Chuck pondered what he thought he had seen with the way Konti had secured them. "He's not that inept. He did it on purpose."

"I concur, but we wait for him. He and Kirk are running this show."

Chuck tested the bonds to be sure, and concluded he was right. Two flicks of the wrist and they would be free. He turned his attention to Konti.

"Delegates, please come to the table. We have urgent matters to discuss."

They gathered, though warily. Chuck felt the tension between the groups. Konti continued to stand.

"For the past day, we have concentrated our attention on the Kirk slave, brought here to cement this alliance. You have seen first-hand how resistant he is to persuasion. And now, thanks to the traitor, Kadat-"

"You lie!" Kadat screamed.

Konti drew his disruptor and pointed it at Kadat. The guards instinctively backed away. Kadat took two steps toward Konti, and stopped.

"I am no traitor! You are the traitor! You scheme with the Federation scum!"

"This conference is no place to settle personal disputes. Shut up, Kadat, and back up, now!"

"No! You will not blame this on me! You sent me to-"

Konti fired, and Kadat slumped to the ground, out cold under heavy stun.

"Get him out of here," he ordered the guards.

They picked him up and departed. Konti holstered his weapon and turned back to the meeting.

"As I was saying, thanks to Kadat, we now have a Federation vessel in our midst. So the time for decision-making is now. With or without Kirk, are we going ahead with this alliance or not? If we are, then we can start the war today, by destroying the _Enterprise._ What say you?"

After a moment of silence, one Romulan spoke up.

"About Kadat, I have two questions. Why didn't you kill him? And secondly, how would you answer the charge? Kadat did not seem a fool."

Konti sighed. "Kadat is jealous. I had Kirk in my home as a personal slave for months. As to my being in league with Kirk, do you really think he would ally himself to me, given what I have done to him in the past 18 hours?"

He paused while they mentally agreed the idea was ridiculous.

"As to why I did not kill Kadat, I have personal reasons for wanting to settle matters with him by more satisfying methods than a disrupter. But that cannot be allowed to distract me from the business at hand. Do you have other questions or concerns about the alliance?"

Another Romulan spoke. "Do we get Kirk, or are you withdrawing the offer?"

"If you still want him, you can have him. I must tell you though, that the mindsifter got nothing out of him either, and we tried three times. So other than the pleasure of killing him yourselves, I don't know of what use he would be to you."

Rishon spoke up. "Separate him from the Vulcan, and his mind would be ours."

"You are welcome to attempt it. You doubtless know much more than I do about the Vulcan mind."

"Perhaps we should negotiate for those other two."

"The deal was for Kirk. On the other hand, if we do establish this alliance, the others become the spoils of war. Perhaps you would acquire one of them."

The head Romulan stood up. "If you will excuse us, we must confer before making a final decision."

The six left the table and started towards the far door. At that moment the power went out, plunging the room into darkness.

All hell broke loose. Five Klingons went into action. Three rushed the Romulans' position. One turned on Konti. The fifth dove for Kirk.

Kirk was busily unlocking Spock's ankle restraints. "Koh! The wires!"

"I can't see!"

Spock kicked the Klingon who was trying to locate Kirk.

"Do what Spock tells you to."

The Klingon pulled Kirk away from Spock, and the key was lost in the scuffle. Spock's ankles were free, but not his wrists. As Spock began calmly giving instructions, Chuck cautiously approached. It had been too long without practice. He couldn't function well blind. Young, on the other hand, was not at all hampered by the darkness, and took off in the direction of the Klingon-Romulan fight.

Chuck could hear Kirk and a Klingon fighting, but he couldn't tell who was winning. Suddenly, Spock interrupted his instructions to Koh.

"Chuck, stay out of it, and don't get in front of me."

As Koh removed the last wire, Kirk managed to throw the Klingon towards Spock, who picked up both feet and smashed his heels into the back of the Klingon's neck. He slumped to the floor, out cold. Suddenly the doors opened, and pounding feet heralded the arrival of reinforcements.

Kirk dropped to the floor and began looking for the key he had lost. The footsteps stopped and suddenly, there was light in the room, a weird, pulsating light. Very familiar. Kirk looked up in astonishment. In the center of the room was a miniature hologram of First, perhaps twenty inches tall. It gave enough light to see that the reinforcements were not Klingons, but J'oso, J'rip, and over twenty others. They lined the room with weapons at the ready.

Kirk slowly stood up and surveyed the room. Konti stood over a Klingon, knife in hand, as startled as Kirk. Young was held between two Romulans, a Klingon at his feet. A short distance away, a pile of bodies slowly separated itself into two Klingons and three Romulans, who all slowly stood up. A fourth Romulan did not rise.

Konti barked, "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

J'oso barked in return. "Where is Kirk?" It wasn't Standard, but they heard it as Standard.

_He must have acquired a translator_, thought Kirk, as he took a step forward. "I'm here. Can we see to the wounded?"

"Of course."

"Koh?"

Koh took his scanner and made the rounds, while everyone stood in stupified silence. The Klingon at Konti's feet was dead, the one at Young's feet, unconscious, as was the one at Kirk's feet. When Koh got to the Romulan, he paused.

"This man is alive, but I've never treated a Romulan. My care of him would be guess work at best."

"Do you have a doctor aboard one of your ships?" Kirk asked the Romulans.

"No. In our culture, the injured are generally left to fend for themselves. Anyone stupid or careless enough to get injured deserves what they get."

Kirk turned to Young. "Get M'Benga down here."

Young opened his communicator, but got nothing but static. Kirk turned to J'oso.

"Quit jamming communications."

Suddenly the communicator worked.

"Young to _Enterprise_."

"Captain! We've lost all power. Orbit decay will reach critical in-"

"Stop it!" Kirk yelled. "Restore power to all seven ships right now!"

A moment of silence. "Captain! Power's suddenly restored. All systems functioning normally." Pause. "Oh - I see. Captain, we have a visitor."

"I know, or at least Captain Kirk seems to know what's going on. Anyway, right now we need Dr. M'Benga down here to treat a seriously injured Romulan."

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

"Young out."

Kirk turned to Konti. "Better call your ship. Tell them what's going on." He turned to the Romulans. "You, too."

"I don't know what's going on." But he called them anyway, reassured them, and urged them to hold their fire. The Romulan leader did likewise. Kirk turned to J'oso.

"Get someone outside to escort M'Benga in here."

And Kirk returned to the task of finding the key, so he could free Spock.

"We need more light. Turn the power back on."

Kirk staggered as the pain hit him. Without the wires in the back, it was bearable, just. But with the lights on, the key was easily spotted. Kirk picked it up and began unlocking the wrist manacles. M'Benga hurried in, and Koh left the Romulan in his care.

"Koh, do me a favor and turn that thing off. Chuck, you can help Koh take all this hardware off Spock. And find out what Koh did with his uniform."

Kirk crossed the room to where M'Benga knelt by the Romulan. He looked up at Kirk's approach.

"He needs immediate surgery, Captain. If the surgery goes all right, I'd say his chances are pretty good." He gave Kirk's body a practiced look. "And whatever you tangled with, I'd get a topical on those scratches. You don't want infection setting in."

Kirk smiled. "I'm not worried. Knowing Koh, the instrument was undoubtedly sterilized."

M'Benga's eyes widened as he processed the implication, but he said no more.

Within a few minutes, M'Benga and his patient had been transported up to the _Enterprise._ Spock was free and dressed, looking none the worse for wear.

Kirk's attention was focused on the Romulan leader. "It is evident that the Klingons are not in unity with regard to this potential alliance."

"Rishon tells me you knew of the Klingons' duplicity."

"Yes. Kadat told me. He may not be a traitor in the strictest sense of the word, but his loyalties are fluid."

"Indeed. I regret not having the opportunity for a closer acquaintance with you, Kirk. Though perhaps, you would tell me who these police force friends of yours are."

"They're allies of the Federation. I had the opportunity to work with this particular group personally for a couple of months. It's a pleasure to work with competent men. Let me introduce you to their leader. J'oso, this is the leader of the Romulan delegation to this conference. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name, sir."

"You may call me Torbet. Since this alliance is obviously not going to materialize, may we be permitted to depart?"

He directed the question to J'oso, who turned to Kirk for an answer. This of course, told Torbet who was really in charge here. Not that he was surprised.

"I think we must require you to stick around until your colleague is sufficiently recovered from surgery to be released. I don't want to have to explain how we got a prisoner of war when there is no war being fought. So relax; you'll be here another day or two at least. We can use the time to become better acquainted. But first, there are a few details I must see to, if you'll excuse me-"

Kirk walked over to Konti, who still stood over the dead Klingon, though he had cleaned and put away his knife. He looked up at Kirk's approach.

"Konti, I'm sorry." Kirk gestured with his eyes at the body at their feet.

"If we came out of this with only one casualty, I consider that a miracle. Kirk, why didn't you tell me you had all these reinforcements coming?"

"I didn't know about this. I have yet to find out how they knew we needed help."

"Don't tell me you didn't know the _Enterprise_ was coming!" Konti accused.

"Yes, but J'oso's people aren't with the _Enterprise_. Anyway, I wanted to come alone, but Starfleet wouldn't let me. As it turned out, they were six hours later than we expected them." He grinned. "Konti, if you'd known, you'd have been trying to protect me. You wanted to do that even without knowing that rescue was on the way."

"Kirk - what I did to you - there is no adequate defense for my actions. I stand condemned. I did not have to do what I did to you," Konti admitted bleakly.

"Condemnation is from the devil, not from God, not from me. But I can see you've got a serious problem that's going to take more than a few minutes to deal with. Meanwhile we've got four Klingons and five Romulans to entertain. What do you want done with the body?"

"Entertain!? The Klingons belong in the brig. They'll be tried for treason. I've no idea what the Romulans do with failures. The body - I'll have it removed. That is, if your friends have left me any functioning personnel outside."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Konti left to see to the removal of the body, and Kirk took the opportunity to get dressed in the uniform Chuck provided.

"Thanks, Chuck. How are you?"

"I'm fine. I suppose you're going to tell me you're fine too."

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Something I heard about hours of unspeakable agony." Chuck raised an inquiring eyebrow, unconsciously imitating Spock.

"Chuck, I'm sorry you had to see some of that, but know this: none of it disturbed the core of who I am. My body's tired and dehydrated, but that's nothing new. So I really am fine."

Koh arrived, carrying a large glass of juice. Kirk smiled in delight.

"You're a godsend, Koh. Thank you. Do me a favor and get one for Spock too."

Koh nodded and departed without a word. Kirk looked after him with concern.

"Another walking wounded. Lord, give us an opportunity. Chuck, pray for Koh and Konti. They're hurting badly."

"The Klingons?!" Chuck asked incredulously.

"Yes. The two who caused all that 'unspeakable agony'."

By the time Chuck had really grasped what Kirk was saying, he had turned away. Wearing a Federation uniform and sipping Klingon fruit juice, Kirk walked over to talk to the two other Klingons who were conscious. Spock was talking to Young, getting details on the sabotage. Kirk was again having to work at compartmentalizing the dual sets of input. He concentrated on the two men in front of him, who were eyeing him warily.

"Relax, guys. I'm not going to throw this juice in your face. I'm going to drink it. It's become my favorite beverage in the last year. Very refreshing. I would like to talk with you for a few minutes, if I may."

"What about?" one of them growled.

"About Jesus the Christ."

"Don't try to feed us that religious garbage! That's for Federation scum!" The other Klingon curled his lip in distaste.

"Can you look past the uniform, past the face, and just listen for a minute?"

"What can you possibly have to say to us that will make any difference?"

"Have you no interest in a power that can make me love, not hate you for what you have done to me? A power that can overcome impossible levels of pain in order to speak the good news of God's love? You can have that power too, just by asking Him to live inside of you. Would you like to smile at those who kill you, with no hate in your heart, because there's no fear of it in your soul?"

"You're crazy! Go away with your insane talk!"

Kirk tried for several more minutes, but they would not listen or accept what he had to say. As he turned away, Konti approached with an escort, and took the two out. Kirk went to confer with J'oso.

"J'oso, I've no idea how you came to be here, but thank you. I don't know how many casualties we might have had if you hadn't shown up. Are the vessels overhead behaving themselves?"

"I don't know, sir. I have no way to communicate."

"Who's in charge up there?" Kirk asked. "What are your orders?"

"I guess you would say First is in charge. He told me to find you, and then do whatever you said. How did you know he could hear you?" J'oso wondered.

"I didn't; I guessed. Anyway, are you guys in a hurry? We can probably handle it without you, if you need to go."

"That was the other thing First said, that I was not to request pickup until I was certain you were out of harm's way. Correct me if I'm wrong. When we arrived, you were a prisoner of both these races? And their vessels in orbit outnumber yours?"

"Yes, that's correct," Kirk casually agreed.

"Then we will not leave until you and the _Enterprise_ are safely back in your own space. As to how we knew to come, that is a story you will want to hear."

"I look forward to it. Right now, I'm waiting for a report on that injured Romulan. So make yourselves comfortable; we're going to be here for a while yet."

Kirk then went to Young.

"Captain Young, my apologies for taking charge. There wasn't time to tell you what I knew. At any rate, I am happy to report the potential alliance has fallen apart, the violent Klingon faction has been subdued, and will be dealt with by the Klingon government. I recommend we hold the Romulans here until their colleague can be released from medical care. Request permission to-"

"Kirk," Young interrupted, "You are in charge here, not I."

"No. Spock can quote you chapter and verse, but the regs are quite clear. You, as Captain of the _Enterprise_, are in charge. I'll do whatever I can to-"

"Kirk, listen to me!" Young insisted. "I have explicit orders from Perón. They came in just after you and Spock left. You are in charge of this mission. He said if you objected, I was to threaten to make you an admiral."

Kirk grinned. "Fate worse than death. All right, so I'm in charge. Can I borrow your communicator?"

"Certainly."

"Kirk to _Enterprise_."

"_Yes, Captain._" Uhura's joy was obvious.

"Two things: have M'Benga call us as soon as he's out of surgery. Secondly, can you patch me through to First?"

"_One moment, sir._" Pause. "_Go ahead, Captain._"

"First, this is Kirk. Thank you for the timely rescue."

"_You are most welcome. The vessels in orbit are all behaving themselves quite carefully, after our little demonstration of superior technology. Is there anything else you have need of at this time?_"

"Do you really think we need this armed security force? I don't want anybody getting trigger happy."

"_Their weapons cannot kill. And there are still eight Klingons and five Romulans on the planet. They outnumber you more than three to one._"

"Okay. They can stay. It'd be nice, though, if you'd get that hologram out of here. It's upsetting my stomach."

"_You're joking._"

"Yes, I am. But I'd rather not have to pass out anti-nausea pills. Unless you've got a camera and microphone in the hologram, it's served its purpose."

"_The mic is in J'oso's translator. There is no camera. I'm making do with audio._"

"Is your holodeck occupied?"

"_No; J'oso's men are bunking in your quarters._"

"That must be crowded."

"_All in a good cause. What do you want with the holodeck?_"

"I'm not sure. An idea is germinating. Keep listening. I'll either tell J'oso what I want or call you back. Kirk out."

As Kirk handed the communicator back to Young, the hologram winked out. J'oso's men immediately became alarmed.

"Relax, J'oso!" Kirk called. "Everything's under control."

Reassured, they settled back. But they still kept a wary eye on everybody, Kirk included. He ignored it and went to talk to Konti and Koh, who were huddled near Koh's equipment, looking miserable. Kirk reverted to speaking Klingon in their company.

"Why so miserable-looking? Cheer up! You survived this conference, and you're not even facing treason charges, or are you?"

"No, we're in the clear." Konti didn't sound too enthused.

"Then can we manage to get together for dinner without risking your lives? We need to talk. I'll do it right here and now if we have to, but I'd rather have more time and no audience. What do you think? Can we arrange something?"

"Kirk, how can you act as if we are still friends, as if nothing's changed?!" Konti protested.

"Because we are. You guys are letting the devil steal your joy. Snap out of it!"

Koh spoke up. "But the magnitude-"

"Okay, we talk now. But I'd still like some privacy. How long since you've eaten? Can we send everybody to dinner?"

"We haven't taken any official breaks since you got here," Konti admitted.

"Spock tells me that you ate about four hours ago."

"How does he know? And when did he tell you?" Konti's questions were just something to say, not really important.

"Have you forgotten we're mentally linked? Spock has very sensitive hearing. How do you think I knew you wanted to pass me that key?" Kirk grinned.

"You knew?!"

"Yes. Thanks for turning the power off though. I'm not sure I could've managed to attack you otherwise."

Konti just stared, speechless. "I thought-"

"Konti, you're not thinking straight. Let's go eat."

Kirk arranged with J'oso to escort the Romulans to dinner. "And see that everyone else eats too. I'm having dinner with Konti and Koh - alone."

"No guards?"

"I don't need protection from those two. We'll be in Konti's quarters. You can post a guard outside the door for appearances."

He stopped to inform Young of his intentions. He also needed reassurance. "I'll be fine; stop worrying. And if for any reason I'm not, Spock will know it immediately. You'd better hang around. We don't want to alarm anybody up top with an unexpected transporter beam. Try and talk to the Romulans, if they'll let you."

Konti's quarters were crowded with three of them. Kirk would have served the food, but Konti wouldn't let him.

"Absolutely not. We are not starting in with the slave behavior again."

"Okay. I'll sit down and you can serve."

He sat on the floor. The desk chair and the bunk were the only other options. Konti protested again, but Kirk declared he was comfortable. In the end, they all sat on the floor. There was silence for about ten minutes. Kirk ate heartily, grateful he wasn't facing more nausea drugs. The double drug still hadn't worn off, but with no new sources of pain, it was at least tolerable. And he certainly wasn't going to tell these two that he was still in pain. He prayed for wisdom in helping them. As Kirk finished, they gave up any further pretext at eating.

"Thank you for dinner. Most enjoyable."

"Kirk, how can you pretend to ignore what we have done to you?"

"How is this different from all those months in Koh's lab?" Kirk countered.

Koh spoke up. "I'd been looking for several years for something that would do what this drug does. The breakthrough came out of the research I did with you."

"Congratulations. The drug works. But that doesn't answer the question."

"The drug is supposed to drive the mind crazy with the appallingly awfulness of the agony, while not permitting the body to retreat into unconsciousness."

"It works. That's exactly what it does. The only time I was unconscious was when Spock did it. But so what?"

"Kirk!" Konti exploded. "The magnitude of double on top of double, on top of double, on top of double is incomprehensible to me. And you just say, 'so what'?!"

"Okay, you want me to admit it was the most awful thing I've ever had to endure - and physically it was. I had no idea that such an experience was possible, and I thought I had an intimate acquaintance with pain. But you seem to think that the magnitude of the agony creates an emotional response in me that I'm pretending not to have. I did not spend those long hours developing a hatred for you because of what you were doing to me. The idea never occurred to me. After living with me for seven months, why would you think that eighteen hours of indescribable agony would change how I feel about you?"

"Because I did not have to do what I did." Konti was stuck on the same emotional thought.

"Konti, our friendship is possible because neither of us requires that the friendship be above our duty and responsibility to our respective governments. You offered once, but even my 16-year-old self wouldn't let you. It was accepted from the beginning that your duty was to break me. My duty was to refuse to talk. You don't have to admit this, but I know that you're glad you can't break me. But that won't stop you from trying, and I know that too."

Kirk continued. "All this is old news. I walked in here voluntarily. Do you think I didn't know what I was getting into? I came here with three goals: to help you survive this conference, to break up the potential alliance, and to share Jesus. All three goals have been met, though I'm hoping for some more time with the Romulan delegation. Was it worth the hours of agony? Yes. Do I blame you for it? No. And I told you that before we began. So will you please stop blaming yourself?"

A short silence, broken by Koh.

"You admit the drug works - that the agony was driving you crazy. But you are not driven crazy, any more than anything else I've done has driven you crazy. How can your mind tolerate it and be unaffected? Is it because of Spock?"

"No, at least not primarily. He did help me survive the last part of it, but that was only because it was threatening to kill me. I was already long past the point where my soul couldn't tolerate it. The reason you can't break me is Jesus. Left to myself, I would have been screaming, begging for mercy, blurting out everything I know about Starfleet, doing anything, and I mean anything, that might get me relief from the agony. That didn't happen, and won't happen, because Jesus lives inside of me, and He has the power to do what I can't.

"And that same power enables me to love you in the face of all that agony. It's not difficult; I don't have to work at it. I don't have to decide to refuse to hate you. I didn't spend any of those hours wondering if our relationship could survive this. I know it can. Do you believe that I still love you?"

Kirk looked from one to the other. They wanted to believe it, but hadn't the faith.

"What can I say or do that will prove it to you?"

They had no answer.

"Would you believe it if you saw the inside of my mind? Examined my memory of those hours? Felt what I felt, physically and emotionally? Spock could do that for you. I don't know if he could shield you from the intensity of the agony." He paused. "Spock says it would be safe enough. Which means you won't die, not that it won't feel awful. So I won't fault you if you don't want the proof that bad."

Konti replied. "You are suggesting a mind-meld?! But what about the Federation secrets?"

"Not a problem. Rishon didn't get them. You won't either."

"Spock has that much control over your mind?"

"I wouldn't have used the word 'control', but yes, Spock is very good. So do you want the proof bad enough to endure the agony? It won't take very long. He'll just give you a few significant excerpts."

Konti's look was intense. "Yes, if you and he are willing, I want to know what it was like for you."

"He's on his way. What about you, Koh?"

"You think I would pass up a chance like this? You know me better than that!"

Kirk grinned. "Yes, I do. Any questions before Spock gets here?"

"Talk to me about his control over your mind. You wouldn't call it control - what is it then?" Koh asked.

"Spock is perfectly capable of controlling my mind completely, to the point that I have no sense of self apart from him. He's done it. But this is not like that. In the meld, you'll be aware of each of us as separate beings."

"He was controlling your periods of unconsciousness," Koh insisted. "The timing was more precise than anything I've seen you do."

"Yes, but I was letting him do that. We were working together toward the same goal. Just as I will cooperate with him in showing you my memories."

Spock was at the door. J'oso let him in. There was an awkward silence when Spock entered. Before Kirk could address the situation, Spock discerned the problem.

"I presume you have already discussed the reason I am here. Faced with my person however, you remember that I too have suffered agony at your hands. I assure you that I also forgive the pain you have caused me. Further, I forgive the pain you have caused my best friend. All of this will become apparent in the meld. However, there is one thing Jim neglected to mention. If I meld with you, your secrets will be open to my view. Security codes and the like are minor matters, but if your government is planning something major, whatever you know, I would know. And I cannot guarantee silence if the Federation is at risk."

Koh looked at Konti in questioning silence.

"This alliance thing is the only major item of which I am aware. However, there is much that is not major, but still classified. I cannot let you have those secrets any more than you can give me yours."

"I understand. I am sorry."

Spock rose to go, but Koh stopped him.

"Wait! Konti, how many of those secrets do I know?"

Konti was thoughtful for a moment.

"Good point, Koh. You don't. At least, I have tried hard to keep from telling you things that would place you at risk. So you have my permission to do this, if you still want to."

"I do."

"How much experience do you have with pain management?" Spock questioned.

"Very little. I can't approach what Kirk can do without half trying."

"If you cannot control the body's reaction, you may sever the link abruptly, which might damage your mind. I recommend you be restrained. Within the link, you will always have the option to tell me to stop. I would then immediately shield you from the pain without breaking the link. Do you have questions?"

"I don't think so. Konti, you got any way to tie me up?"

"I could sit on you."

"Spock, you better sit on me too," Kirk offered.

"That will not be necessary, Jim. There is no risk of our link being severed."

So Kirk sat on the floor in the corner, calculating that he would run into immovable objects before he got close enough to disturb Spock. Koh lay on the floor next to the bunk. Konti sat on him and gripped his wrists. Spock placed his fingers on Koh's face and the meld began.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

*Greetings, Koh. I am Spock. Jim is here with me, but will not speak unless you ask him a direct question. Come; we invite you into our minds. As we show you the memories you have asked for, you will feel as if you are Kirk. Do not be alarmed; your mind is intact and untampered with. Do you have questions?*

*This is what a mind-meld is like?! It's just a conversation!*

*There are many possibilities in a meld. This is the easiest for you.*

*It does not seem as if you are looking at my whole mind. Is it beneath my awareness, then?*

*No. If I were probing your mind, you would be aware of it. Certain basics about your nature are apparent at once, unless you know how to shield, which you do not.*

*Does Kirk?*

*Jim has never tried to shield himself. I maintain a shield over his specific memories, but not his basic nature.*

*So, you're not reading my mind automatically?*

*No. But you do not have the skill to prevent me from doing so, if I chose to.*

*Then Konti could do this too, if he would trust you.*

*He is prudent not to.*

*Kirk, talk to me.*

*I admire your courage, Koh. And I apologize for hooking your scientific curiosity.*

*You did that on purpose!?*

*Yes, but don't spend so much time analyzing that you're not aware of my emotions.*

*You think I'll know what they are.*

*Yes, I do. If you let yourself just experience it. Analyze later.*

*I'll try, but I already know one thing, just by being here. You are friend, not enemy; you both are.*

Konti watched intently. When the pain began, Koh's body went rigid, then exhibited the same behavior he had seen Kirk do. He had to concentrate his energy on keeping Koh still enough to avoid breaking the link. Spock put his other hand on Koh's forehead. Konti was dimly aware that Kirk was going crazy, but he couldn't focus on Kirk. About ten minutes later, it stopped. Shortly thereafter, Spock withdrew.

Konti released Koh, but he just lay there, looking at Spock. Kirk recovered himself and came and sat next to Spock. Koh stared at them both. Finally he spoke.

"Incredible! Absolutely- ...words cannot describe..." He stumbled to a halt, then tried again. "How you can love in the face of that is..." He shook his head in awe, not disbelief. He sat up and looked at Konti.

"I don't tell you what to do, Konti, but I'm telling you this. If you don't do this, you will always wish you had. I can't describe it; I can't explain it. They will do this again for you. Konti, I'm telling you, do it."

Konti looked into Koh's intent face.

"I want to. You know I want to, but-"

"Konti, trust them. Trust Spock."

"Koh, it isn't a question of trust."

"Yes, it is. Do you trust Jesus? What's He telling you to do?"

"Not to fear, but which course of action am I not to fear?"

"Konti, listen to your heart. Who introduced you to Jesus? Has Kirk ever done anything untrustworthy?" Koh pleaded earnestly.

"I've staked my life on his trustworthiness."

"Then why would you stop now? Look at him! Calmly sitting there, hoping you will say 'yes', even though he knows when you do, that he's in for double the agony you will feel."

"What!?"

"It's true. He relives the memory exactly as Spock shows it to you, except at double the intensity, because the drug hasn't worn off yet." Koh wished he had an antidote for the blasted drug, but he didn't.

"Is that true?!" Konti demanded of Kirk.

"Yes," was the quietly calm reply.

"Why?"

"Because I want you to know that Jesus' love shines forth from me to you, undimmed by any of this."

"Konti," Koh made one last point. "If you can't trust them, trust me. I have never been so profoundly moved in my life. It was terrible, horrendously awful. But it was beautiful. I told you, I can't explain it. Konti, do it. I promise, you won't be sorry."

So Konti did. The agony was indeed terrible, and the excerpts went by so fast, it was dizzying, in spite of Spock's tour-guide explanations. Every time the agony doubled, Konti thought he was losing it. And he couldn't decipher whether that was his own reaction, Kirk's response, or Kirk's memory. It was confusing and overwhelming.

But Konti was aware of other things besides the agony. For instance, what Spock and Kirk were doing to make those memories available. Kirk's mind had already buried those painful memories. He freely opened his soul for Spock to yank those memories back to consciousness. Further, he put no restrictions on what Spock chose to show Konti. Not only was the agony an open book, but Kirk's perceptions, attitudes, and feelings as well.

He sensed Kirk's acceptance of the initial overwhelming agony. He felt Kirk access the grace of God at the first doubling. Kirk's love for Koh was more powerful than the agony of the carving. But when Kirk and Spock changed places, Konti discovered a whole new dimension to this. The character of Kirk's relationship with Spock became more evident. The deep commitment, the warm affection, the singleness of purpose, the complete trust, all created a teamwork between them that made his own relationship with Kirk seem like polite acquaintance by comparison.

But that was not how Kirk saw it. He considered his relationship with Konti to be in the same class as that with Spock. In Kirk's mind, there was no need for reassurance, advance planning, or debriefing afterwards. They could walk into a situation and pretend to be enemies while in no way undermining the depth of their friendship. Kirk's thoughts of Konti during those long hours concerned only their mutual performance and what Konti needed from Kirk. The agony was a challenge to deal with, but it contained no emotional weight.

Spock finished and withdrew. Kirk recovered as quickly as before, and came to sit by Konti. Konti looked first at Koh, then Spock, then Kirk.

"Thank you. I am overwhelmed, awed, and humbled. I wish I deserved what you have done for me. How can I be as much a friend to you as you have been to me?"

"Spread the love of Jesus to those around you."

"I try, but what of you and this conference?"

"We have five Romulans to reach and maybe 24 hours in which to do it. How familiar are you with holodeck technology?"

xxxx

They left Konti's quarters separately, so as not to attract attention to their meeting. Kirk instructed J'oso to gather everyone in the conference building. The room was crowded with eight Klingons, five Romulans, four Federation officers, and 24 of J'oso's men. Kirk addressed the crowd.

"We are all stuck here for at least the next 24 hours, while we wait for the injured Romulan to recover. Lest you become bored and impatient with the waiting, I wish to propose a contest."

"What kind of a contest?" asked one of the Romulans.

"It's a Federation trick!" assumed a Klingon.

"No trick, I promise. Those who participate will do so voluntarily with full details known." He turned to the Romulans. "It is well-known that Romulans believe that a major weakness of the Federation is their inclusion of many races. Romulans believe themselves a superior race, and that diluting themselves with outsiders weakens the purity of their superiority. Is this not so?"

Torbet's reply was guarded. "Some of my people have felt this way, yes."

He was after all, seriously outnumbered in a room full of hostiles. The Klingons bristled, but Kirk ignored them and went on, addressing himself to Torbet.

"I wish to challenge the truth of this theory. This contest would be between two teams of six each: one team made up of all Romulans, the other containing representatives from six different races. You choose the Romulan team, I choose the opposing team. But everybody has the option to back out after we decide what the contest will entail. Are you interested?"

"No Romulan would back out!"

"I take it that means you're interested. The contest would entail challenges that require close teamwork, not just individual effort. And we need a team of judges to decide the winning team. I propose we have three judges, and I nominate Commander Byrd of the Federation, Dr. Koh of the Klingons, and yourself, Torbet, for the Romulans. The judging team would also vote on any suggestions for what the contest should include. Any objections?"

"Why not make yourself a judge?" Torbet wanted to know.

"Because I'm going to be a contestant. I choose the opposing team as follows: myself, human; Young, Morenan/Andorian mix; Spock, Vulcan/human mix; J'ret of the friendly police force; Konti, Klingon; and lastly, a Romulan. I would like to have your most loyal and trusted officer." Kirk had been pointing to his chosen team members, and now turned to grin at Torbet.

"All my officers are loyal!" Torbet wasn't sure where the trap was, but was equally certain there must be one.

"Of course, but the report of an exceptionally trusted officer is more readily believed." Kirk spread his hands disarmingly.

"You want my officer to report what happens on your team? I guess that makes a kind of perverted sense, but what do you want with a Klingon, particularly that one? If there's one person in this room I would assume is your personal enemy, it's Konti."

"The purpose of the contest is to prove that people of different races can work together for a common cause. Do you think Konti incapable of setting aside personal concerns for such a cause?" Kirk taunted.

"I think you're crazy if you think such a collection can beat a team of Romulans!"

"Do I get my Romulan then?"

"Yes," was the grudging reply, and Torbet opened his communicator.

The Romulan who joined them a few minutes later was a surprise. Torbet made the introduction.

"Kirk, this is my First Officer, Sub-Commander Anastia. She is my wife."

"I am honored to meet you, Sub-Commander." He turned to Torbet. "I can understand your reluctance to involve your wife in this contest. Perhaps I should not have requested your most trusted officer. I would not consider it a breach of honor for you to arrange an alternate."

Torbet drew himself up. "What is wrong with my choice? The fact that she is my wife is irrelevant. Are you refusing Anastia on your team then?"

"By no means! I would be glad to have her on my team. She would be treated with the utmost honor and respect."

"Do not underestimate her competence as a warrior, just because she is female."

"I did not mean to imply any such thing!"

Kirk stopped, aware he was only digging the hole deeper. Chuck was trying hard not to laugh at him. Kirk would have laughed too, except that would undoubtedly have offended Torbet even further. He took a deep breath.

"Would you like me to explain the contest to the Sub-Commander, and her role in it, or would you like to? I regret that I do not speak your language."

Torbet's back was still ramrod straight. "Anastia is as fluent in Standard as I am, but it would be faster to explain in Rihannsu."

"Go ahead. I have no objections. Take as much time as you need."

Torbet and Anastia conferred quietly for a few minutes. Kirk took the opportunity to talk to J'ret.

"Do you also have a translator, J'ret?"

"Yes, sir. I can understand you."

"You do not need to address me as 'sir'. In this contest, we are all equals. I want to make sure you understand that your role is not that of policeman, mediator, or personal bodyguard. You are simply J'ret, one of the team. Can you make that adjustment?" Kirk asked.

"Yes, s-, uh-, I think so. But, may I ask, why did you pick me?" J'ret wondered.

"Two reasons: I did not want to pick J'oso, not because he's not qualified, but because I don't want anyone to think the defense forces are in any way weakened. Secondly, I remembered your response to that torture machine of Spock's. We may need some of that same attitude in this contest. Do you have concerns about working with aliens?"

"No, except-" He stopped.

"What?" Kirk encouraged.

"Aliens is one thing; enemies is another."

"The Watchers used to be your enemies. Are they still?"

"That's different," J'ret protested.

"Is it?"

Torbet had finished briefing Anastia and was assembling his team of Romulans. Kirk noticed there were no women on the other team, but chose not to make an issue of it. Shortly thereafter, both teams were ready and awaiting further instructions. Kirk again took charge.

"All right, you all understand the purpose of this contest is to prove-"

Young's communicator beeped. Kirk stopped and waited for Young to answer it. He handed it to Kirk.

"It's M'Benga."

"Kirk here. How's your patient?"

"_Current prognosis is that he'll live, sir._"

"I'm glad to hear it. How soon can you release him from medical care?"

"_I could transfer him to another facility within hours, but 'released from medical care', I don't know. Depends on his rate of recovery._"

"Guess. I need a time frame."

"_With an injury this serious, he should be under observation for at least a week._"

"And if the patient were Spock, and it was a life and death issue to release him as soon as possible, what then?"

"_Anything less than 48 hours, and you'd probably kill him. 72 would be a whole lot safer._"

"Thanks, M'Benga. That's what I needed. Kirk out."

He handed the communicator back to Young and looked at Torbet.

"48 hours, maybe 72, before you can leave. I propose the contest be for a duration of 48 hours. That's long enough to be interesting, and gives us some time at the other end for debriefing. Opinions?"

Torbet, Koh, and Chuck each gave assent to the time frame. Kirk returned his attention to the contestants. Reiterating the things he'd said before for clarification, he went on to open the floor for suggestions.

"Anyone can make a suggestion, and I have several, but the judges will make all decisions. And it doesn't have to be unanimous. A simple two-thirds majority decides. So, what suggestions do you have?"

Dead silence. Kirk looked at each of them, but they all seemed to be waiting for someone else to say something. Kirk did not want all the ideas to come from him, so he just waited. Finally one of the Romulan contestants burst out in a brief torrent of his native tongue, largely addressed apparently at Torbet. When the man subsided, Torbet explained.

"He does not feel it honorable to fight his commander's wife. He objects to Anastia on your team."

Something in the way Torbet said 'fight' alerted Kirk to the misunderstanding.

"I do not envision this contest will involve physical combat between the two teams. It is not a question of which team can conquer the other physically, but which team can best work together to accomplish the goal."

Konti spoke up. "What's wrong with the goal of killing off the opposing team?" Konti knew what Kirk's reaction to that would be, and was not disappointed.

"No killing! I forbid it, and I will enforce that prohibition! Is that clear?!"

Konti backed down without replying, and Kirk transferred his steely gaze to the other contestants. Finally he spoke to Torbet.

"Do your people understand?!"

Torbet reiterated the command in Rihannsu and got replies from each of the Romulans.

"Yes, they understand. However, if this is not to be a fight between the two teams, then what is it?" Torbet asked.

"Let me give you a few examples of what I'm talking about. Which team could cross a raging river first, or build a better shelter, or solve a maze first?"

"It is a speed contest then?"

"Not necessarily. The judges will decide what factors to consider, and you do not have to tell the contestants what is being tested. Some things might seem too easy, but what if half the team can neither see nor hear, and has no idea what the task is?"

"That would be rather more difficult, I agree. But where do we find a raging river on this planet? And who would build a maze in the time we have?" Torbet seemed intrigued rather than obstructive.

"Are you familiar with holodeck technology?" Kirk asked.

"In theory, yes."

"J'oso's vessel contains a large holodeck, capable of producing any environment we require. Spock can give Koh a tour of the holodeck computer in a few minutes. But something else occurs to me. If we're going to adjourn to the holodeck, you'd better tell your people where we're going. We don't want any panic up there."

Torbet, Konti, and Young called their respective ships. Kirk turned to Konti.

"The holodeck control room is not large. You will call four observers who will also be hostages, along with you and Koh, to ensure the good behavior of your vessels. And I don't want anyone under the rank of Sub-commander. The rest of your staff may remain here or return to your vessel. One other thing: J'oso's vessel has the ability to transmit a picture of the action on the holodeck to your vessels. Tell J'oso which screens to send that image to."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Shortly thereafter, they were gathered on the holodeck: the twelve contestants and three judges, the eight Klingon and Romulan hostage/observers, and J'oso's 24 men. The floor was blank and bare, with no program in use. Spock immediately went to the portable transporter unit. Kirk spoke to the judges.

"If you will follow Spock, he will show you the control room." They did.

Kirk turned to J'oso. "I want eight of your men in Third's room with the observers, to keep the peace and provide food. If things get out of hand, pull me out of this contest, but I'm hoping everybody will behave. Do not watch the screen; do not attempt to control what the judges are doing to us. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. The rest of your men are off-duty, but I'd like you to stay here until we're ready to start. You're my easiest way to talk to First without being obvious about it. Oh, and would you have someone bring each contestant a large glass of juice. There'll be no other food or water til we're done."

J'oso turned to instruct his men, and Kirk addressed the observers.

"In a few minutes, you'll be conducted to the control room, where seating will be provided. Enjoy the show, but do not attempt to interfere with the judges. Food will be provided, but do not try to leave the room. If there's anything you need, ask one of J'oso's men. Weapons will be confiscated and returned when you are released. J'oso, search them."

Kirk watched carefully, but there was no trouble. They were unhappy, but the hostages would cooperate. When they were gone, J'oso dismissed the rest of his men, and the contestants stood around in uneasy silence, drinking their juice.

"I'm waiting for the judges to return before we discuss further details, but does anyone have a question?"

One of the Romulans did. "How does this holodeck work?"

Suddenly they were standing on the grassy plain of the lion scene, but without the lions.

"Instantaneous change to the environment. You're still standing on the floor, but it now looks, feels, and smells like grass. It fools your senses, all of them. If you get injured, you are really injured. It will not disappear when they turn off the program."

The environment suddenly changed to the tropical jungle.

"Right now, we're all in the same program. But this holodeck can be divided, so as to isolate one from another. We might be standing ten feet from each other, but if there's a dividing line between us, I can't see you, and you can't see me, no matter how long we walk towards each other."

Spock illustrated Kirk's words by making it happen. Then the scene changed again to a gym full of obstacles.

"Not all environments are nature scenes. It can do interiors just as easily. I should also point out that the control room can hear what you say, as well as see what you do. And they can issue instructions too."

"_Go through the door in the far wall._" It was Spock's voice.

One by one, they trooped into the next room. Kirk felt like a museum tour guide.

"Now this, gentlemen, is affectionately known as the black box. It comes in different sizes. This one is designed to hold your entire team."

"You're nuts! It's only three feet square!" one of the Romulans objected.

"We'd suffocate!" another predicted.

"No, you wouldn't; it has an interior air supply. But you would be cozy."

"We'd be on top of each other!"

"Why is it called a black box?" Rishon asked.

"Because when you're inside, no light penetrates. But from the outside, you can clearly see everything in the box. Try it and see what I mean."

Two of them did, but discovered they couldn't get out.

"Hey! Where's the door?! I can't get out!"

Kirk reached in a hand and pulled them out.

"Relax; calm down. You've just discovered the last feature of this box. Once in, you cannot get out without help. Either someone must break the seal from the outside, or the control room must dissolve the box."

Kirk's team had said nothing, but thoughtfully observed all of it. They returned to the gym, which suddenly disappeared, and they were back on the bare holodeck floor. Spock and the judges appeared moments later.

"Koh, I trust you have the controls mastered."

"Too bad my lab doesn't have one of these." Koh rubbed his fingers together in anticipation of exploring a new toy.

"Would have spiced up some of those sessions, I agree, but you did pretty well with the equipment you had."

He turned to Torbet.

"A few more suggestions, and then we'll get started. I think it would be best if the contestants do not know ahead of time what they will be facing. Just give us the necessary instructions on the spot. You can use the black box in between scenes, so whenever we see the box, we know to get ourselves into it." He began pacing back and forth, explaining to the contestants, but mostly aiming his comments to the judges.

"A key element in the ability of each team to function is communication. I mentioned this before, but an interesting twist to the contest would be to have several team members wearing sensory deprivation units for the entire test. I'm not sure how many we can scrounge up, but _Enterprise_ has one, and Koh has one. The judges would decide which contestants must wear the SDU's." He paused, but nobody tried to interrupt, so he went on.

"The team has to stay together unless the task requires us to split up. Best also if the team cannot see or hear the opposing team. That way, we have no idea if we're winning or losing until it's over. So for the next 48 hours, there's no food, no drink, no sleep, no privacy, and no breaks."

Kirk grinned. "If you want to play psychological games, you can take contestants out one at a time, and ask if they choose to continue. And you can ask the same one over and over again. So we won't have any idea when or if one of us will suddenly disappear. But if any contestant chooses not to continue, they automatically forfeit the contest for their entire team. Any questions?"

"What about weapons? You took the observers' weapons, but no one else's."

"I only did that because I don't want you to have to worry about an attack from behind. You can keep your weapons; so can the contestants. But I don't think contestants should be allowed to have communicators."

Young passed his communicator to Chuck, who called the _Enterprise_ to request SDU's. They managed to gather six of them altogether. Kirk spoke quietly to Chuck while they waited for them.

"I don't want you to object to anything Koh and Torbet want to do. If they disagree, you can cast the deciding vote; otherwise, let them do whatever they want. Your job is not to protect us."

"Then what is it?" Chuck asked, mystified.

"Window dressing. I want it to look like the Federation has a voice in the judging."

A note of irritation crept into Chuck's voice. "Why are you tying my hands?"

"Torbet won't push for anything impossible - his men have to do it too. And Koh is very good. You can trust him." Kirk smiled warmly.

"To do what?" Chuck retorted.

"Keep us all alive while pushing the limits as far as possible."

The SDU's arrived; Koh began discussing with Torbet who should wear them.

"I don't know your people, but I should think Rishon ought to be one of the three. As for Kirk's team, it's obvious. Make the three Federation officers wear the SDU's."

Torbet turned to Chuck. "Opinions, objections?"

"No objections."

Chuck sighed inwardly. It was going to be a long two days if that was all he was allowed to say. Kirk smiled at him in sympathy as he reached for one of the SDU's.

"Wait a minute!" Torbet interjected. "Kirk, you're crazy, but you're not stupid. You can't run a team if you're blind and deaf. And only an idiot would get into that box with all his allies blind and deaf, and his enemies not so hampered."

"I don't consider any of my teammates to be enemies, and it has not yet been determined who will be leader of our team. But forgive me for assuming the decision was made. Do you cast a dissenting vote then?"

"Konti is not your enemy?! And what about Anastia?"

"Not for the duration of the contest. Ask him if he intends to win."

Torbet looked at Konti and then Anastia, and got quiet but definite affirmatives from each. Kirk smiled.

"See? We understand each other well. So do you want me to wear the SDU?"

Torbet just stared for a moment before replying. "Yes," he finally said.

Kirk smiled and picked up the SDU. Torbet chose Romulans to wear the others. Kirk addressed the contestants one more time.

"This is your only chance to back out without forfeiting for your entire team. You've heard and seen some of what this is going to be like. If any of you are not here by choice, say so now, and we'll replace you."

Dead silence.

"Okay then. Judges, if you've nothing further, you can adjourn to the control room and get this show started. J'oso, make sure all the SDU's are secured, then you can leave too. I'll see you in 48."

Kirk noted the position of each of his team members, and put on the SDU. J'oso checked his first. As Kirk felt him move away, he spoke quietly to Konti on his left.

"Konti, when the Romulan team disappears from your view, squeeze my arm. Until then, we do nothing."

It took several minutes, but Kirk waited patiently. Finally Konti squeezed his arm.

"All right. I expect the box to be first on the agenda. If I'm right, squeeze my arm again." Yes. "Okay, J'ret, you're tallest, so you go first. Sit on the floor with your back into the far corner. Konti, you stand in the other back corner. Anastia, you'll stand on J'ret's shoulders. I'll sit on Konti's. Spock and Young will be in last."

The task was done in less than a minute.

"That was quick and efficient. I'd like to get it down to ten seconds flat, but this is a good beginning. I don't know how long we'll be in here, possibly long enough to switch positions, but for now, is everyone reasonably comfortable? Konti, if the answer is 'yes', squeeze my leg." Yes. "Okay. We need to use black box time productively. Out there, we'll need to concentrate on doing; in here, we can talk."

There was a bit of foot-shifting as they tried to grasp the concept of speech in these circumstances.

"I suspect you're wondering how we can talk if three of us can't hear. There's several ways. If we ask a yes/no question, you can answer by squeezing an arm or leg - once for yes, twice for no. You can spell short messages on the chest, if we're not in a hurry. And remember that Spock and I are mentally linked, so if you can't reach me, spell it for him and I'll get the message. Also, Spock is talking to Young via Morse code. That's an old system that translates letters into dots and dashes. Young's good at it, so it's faster than spelling on the chest."

Konti wished he could see the Romulan Sub-Commander. As far as he was concerned, she was the wild card in this whole game of Kirk's. He would have to keep a close eye on her as things went along.

Kirk continued. "One of the elements of an effective team is good leadership. We each have functioned as leader and have the skill and understanding necessary. We need to decide who will lead this team, and everyone must consent to that decision. So, those of you who can hear, take a few minutes to discuss it. When you decide which of you will be leader, spell it on Spock's chest."

It took several minutes. Kirk leaned against the wall and waited patiently. He felt Konti shift his feet again, but there didn't seem to be any agitation, so Kirk deduced that Konti was not upset.

*Spock, tell Young that we'll agree with whatever they decide. It doesn't matter who leads, so much as it matters that somebody does.*

Someone began spelling on Spock's chest. K-

_Good, they've chosen Konti_, Kirk thought. I-

_That's not how Konti's name is spelled?_ R-

_Oh, no, they don't mean what I think.._. K.

"You want _me_ to lead? Why? One of you would be a much better choice. How can I lead the team when I can neither see nor hear?"

Y-O-U-R-E D-O-I-N-G I-T N-O-W.

"That's different. Any of us could lead this discussion. But out there, success may depend on quick action. We may not have time for you to tell me what's going on. Spock, convince them this is a bad idea."

"I apologize, Captain. I cannot do that."

*Why not?!*

"I do not think it a bad idea."

*Explain.*

"Leadership is more than quick action in a crisis. You are uniquely equipped to lead this team for at least three reasons. While we do not all know each other, with the exception of Anastia, we all know you. None of the rest of us is a centrally known person. Secondly, you have extensive experience functioning with an SDU, and therefore understand the problems and possible solutions. To my knowledge, none of the rest of us possess this experience. Third, you have worked with Koh sufficiently to anticipate what he will do."

"But all that is irrelevant if we're in a crisis and you have to spell words on my chest to tell me what's going on."

"So solve the problem, but don't abdicate."

Kirk sighed. "Is this opinion unanimous?"

Yes, Konti squeezed.

"All right, Spock, you win, as usual. So tell me how to solve this problem."

"Anticipate and delegate."

xxxx

Neither Chuck nor Koh was surprised at what was going on with Kirk's team. Both watched with interest to see how the Romulans would handle the same challenge. Torbet was appalled. How could an SDU make his people this inept?! It was embarrassing.

As soon as the box appeared, the three who could see it got themselves inside, leaving the other three wandering around outside. After three minutes, it was clearly hopeless. The judges conferred and agreed to give them a second chance. This time the sighted officers corralled the blind and deaf and shoved them into the box first. One of them grumbled about having to babysit, but Torbet hoped the others didn't understand Rihannsu.

Once in the box, they argued and complained. Nothing productive was discussed. Those wearing the SDU's said nothing, enduring the isolation in silence. No one took charge. They didn't even mention that someone should. The arguing was about who stepped on who, who poked whose ribs with their elbow, etc.

Torbet decided they'd better move on, before Kirk had his team thoroughly organized. He spoke into the microphone.

"Your first task is to build a standing pyramid - three of you on the bottom, two in the middle, and one on top. Maintain the pyramid until you see the box reappear."

Koh typed in two commands. The boxes disappeared, spilling both teams out onto the gym floor.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Kirk was leaning against the wall when he felt it disappear. He fell, taking Konti down with him.

"Sorry. I should know better than to lean on a wall that's going to disappear. Is anybody hurt?"

Konti squeezed his leg twice.

"This feels like a wood floor. Are we in the gym?"

Yes.

"Are there verbal instructions? Spell me just the key words."

P - Y - R - A - M - I - D

"Pyramid? We're supposed to make a pyramid with our bodies? Three on the bottom, then two, then one?"

Yes.

"Any other instructions?"

S - T - A - N - D

"It's to be a standing pyramid?"

Yes.

"How long do we hold position?"

T-I-L B-O-X

"Until we see the box reappear?"

Yes.

"Anything else?"

No.

"Okay. J'ret, you'll be in the middle, Konti on his left, me on his right. Anastia and Young will make up the middle layer, with Spock on top. When you see the box, Anastia, squeeze Spock's leg. He will jump down, then you and Young. Any questions?"

They had it done in less than three minutes. And then stood motionless for five very long minutes. Kirk wasn't sure if it was an endurance test, or just an indication that the opposing team was having troubles. Finally he felt Anastia's hand squeeze Spock's leg, then the rush of air as Spock, and then Anastia and Young, jumped.

"Good job, people. Everybody back in the box, same order as before."

Spock reported the time at 45 seconds.

*I'm the slow-poke, I think.*

*If Konti went first-*

"Next time, let's have Konti in first, then me. That way, I won't have to worry about stepping on J'ret. Anybody have any comments on the pyramid?"

No.

"Just in case there's more of that, which of you are comfortable with this kind of gymnastics, and which of you are novices?"

J - N - A - C - K - N - C

"J'ret's a novice, Anastia's comfortable, and Konti's a novice, but comfortable anyway?"

Yes.

"I bet Anastia's more than comfortable, even an expert?"

Yes.

"Spock and Young are too. Let's hope we don't need more than three experts. Moving on, anticipate and delegate, Spock said. Konti, you're doing pretty good at the spelling. Does Anastia think she could do as well, or better?"

M - A - Y - B - E

"Okay, we'll leave the job with Konti for now. But Anastia, don't be afraid to jump in and spell something if you think it's needed. J'ret, you won't have to spell because you don't have the language. But this still leaves us with the problem of what to do if there's no time to spell. Anastia, I'm delegating to you the task of deciding whether we have time to confer. If in your judgment we do not, then start giving orders. Konti, if she does that, obey them. You too, J'ret. Don't stop to try to explain it to me. Do you understand?"

W-H-Y A-N-A-S-T-I-A-?

"Is that your question, or hers?"

H - E - R - S

Konti was quite familiar with Kirk's trust-your-enemies policy. But Anastia assumed they were both Kirk's enemies, so what reason would Kirk give?

"Anastia, you are the one person on this team that no one knows. You think it makes more sense for me to delegate this to someone I know and trust. Doubtless you are right. But I'm not going to do that for several reasons.

"J'ret is quite competent, but relatively inexperienced compared to you and Konti. Also, relaying orders through a translator takes a little bit of extra time. That leaves you or Konti, since it has to be someone who sees and hears. I could give it to Konti, but he already has the job of spelling messages, and I'd rather not divide his attention.

"But the real reason I'm giving it to you is that I want to prove to you and the judges that I trust you, even though I do not know you. Furthermore, everyone else on this team will obey you, because I so order it. Will you accept the responsibility I place on you to lead this team through a time-sensitive crisis?"

S-H-E W-A-N-T-S V-E-R-B-A-L C-O-N-S-E-N-T F-R-O-M E-A-C-H

"Spock?" Kirk voiced it so the others could hear.

"Were I able to hear your orders, I would obey them. Since I cannot, I will obey what you do to me. If you push, I will go where you push. If you grab my arm and run, I will run with you. Further examples seem unnecessary."

"Young?" Kirk asked.

"I too will obey, and it's not just because Kirk orders it, though there is that factor. You have to understand just what an SDU does. Cut off from the usual sources of input, you feel very isolated, very dependent on those around you for help. Yet without tactile input, you don't even know they're there. So if somebody pushes me to the ground, I'm going to stay there, because it's the safest thing to do."

Kirk then asked J'ret to give Anastia his consent.

"Kirk is the only one of you that I know, though I have met Spock. But what I know of Kirk is sufficient for me to follow his orders, even if I think they're crazy. I made the mistake of not doing so once, and I paid dearly for my error. Furthermore, _he_ paid even more dearly for my error. So, I will obey you because he tells me to."

"Konti?"

"I will obey you because I want to win. If I refuse, we waste time arguing. Somebody has to lead; Kirk chose you."

"I could refuse the responsibility," Anastia temporized.

"Did Torbet tell you not to get involved then?" Konti asked.

"He gave me no such instruction, but how can you know that I will not sabotage your efforts to win?"

"I can't. Kirk doesn't know either. If he knew, there would be no question of trust. He chooses to trust you. And he wants to win even more than I do."

"Then why does he trust me?" Anastia clearly did not understand, and was therefore very wary.

"Trusting you is more important to him than winning."

"That's crazy, and how do you know these things?"

"Because he did the same thing to me when we met," Konti started to explain.

Suddenly the box disappeared, and they were again in the gym. It was Koh's voice this time.

"_Follow the yellow line. Each member of the team must traverse the path just once. If anyone strays off the line, the entire team must start over._"

Konti spelled for Kirk, whose first question was, "How wide is the line?"

T-H-R-E-E I-N-C-H-E-S

"Do our feet have to be touching the line? Could I carry you?"

D-O-N-T K-N-O-W B-U-T L-I-N-E R-A-I-S-E-D S-I-X I-N-C-H-E-S O-F-F F-L-O-O-R

"So it's a balance beam. Can you see the finish line?"

No. M-A-N-Y S-T-E-P-S & T-U-R-N-S

Kirk abandoned the idea of carrying Konti, because he didn't want to ask Spock to carry J'ret.

*I could.*

*I know, but he would be uncomfortable.*

"All right, single file, in pairs. Anastia, you lead me. J'ret leads Spock; Konti gets Young. Any questions?"

"How do I keep you from falling off?"

Konti spelled the question.

"Take my hand and keep it directly over the yellow line."

So she did, and it worked very well for about twenty minutes. Part way down a set of descending steps, the path turned to the right. Kirk failed to get the signal from Anastia, and stepped out onto nothing. He fell about three feet, landing in a heap. By the time he picked himself up, he could feel Anastia's hands all over him.

"Relax; I'm fine. My apologies, everyone. Let's try this again."

Kirk could feel that Anastia was still agitated, but she led off anyway. Kirk followed, not at all reluctantly. This time they made it all the way to the end without mishap. The yellow line ended in the black box, but because they entered out of order, there was a bit of a scramble as they repositioned themselves in the box. J'ret got thoroughly stepped on, and it felt like a confusing collection of arms and legs, but after several minutes, Kirk felt himself lifted by strong arms and placed on Konti's shoulders.

"I'm sorry for not anticipating this. J'ret, are you okay?" Yes. "Anybody have comments or questions about what we just did?"

"I didn't make him fall on purpose. It was an accident."

"Why would we think otherwise?" Konti replied. "Does Kirk think you did it on purpose?"

"Obviously not, but I didn't keep him from falling either."

"So what? He's not hurt. Forget it."

"It's a matter of trust, not injury."

Kirk interrupted, "Why do I get the feeling you're talking without me? I know spelling is slow. Just give me a couple key words."

F-A-L-L T-R-U-S-T

"You're talking about my fall off the steps. But what does trust have to do with it? You don't trust me not to fall the next time?"

D-O Y-O-U T-R-U-S-T A-N-A-S-T-I-A-?

"Yes. I told you that. Trust is a choice. I choose to trust her. Oh, I get it. She thinks I don't trust her, because I fell."

W-H-Y D-O Y-O-U-?

"First of all, it's not her fault that I fell. Does she think it was?"

No.

"But even if I thought it was her fault, I would still trust her. My decision to trust her is not based on anything she does or doesn't do, and I'm not afraid of falling or getting hurt."

"What is it based on then?" Anastia asked.

"It's based on my trust in the Lord Jesus Christ. Since He is utterly trustworthy, I have nothing to fear from others."

"How can he answer a question he didn't even hear?" Anastia quipped.

"That may have been what he was going to say anyway," Konti guessed.

"Can we return to the question of who leads when there's no time to talk?" Kirk continued, unaware of the byplay between Konti and Anastia.

Suddenly the box disappeared.

"I guess not."

Koh's voice gave instructions.

"_Same as before, except this time, there are two paths. All sighted members must take the right-hand path. Those wearing SDU's take the left. You may tell them the instructions, but you may not accompany them on the path._"

Konti spelled quickly. Kirk chuckled at the news.

"Divide and conquer, is it? Not to worry; we can do this. Show me where the path starts."

Anastia took his hand and led him a few steps. He felt the beam with his foot.

"Thanks. I got it. Off you go then. Anastia, you're in charge, like it or not. See you in the box."

*Spock, you lead. This is going to have to be pretty careful footwork.*

*I believe Young would be the best choice.*

*Young can do this better than you can?! This I've gotta see.*

*For obvious reasons, you will not see it.*

*Okay Spock, you know him better than I do. Young leads, then you, and I'll bring up the rear.*

Young and Spock both took to the job like dancers - very light and quick on their feet. Kirk felt like a draft horse in comparison, though he was by no means inept.

Anastia watched with dropped jaw as the three of them danced along a parallel path. It did not appear to her that any of them needed assistance, though Spock was holding a hand of each. Konti was not surprised to have it confirmed that Kirk could navigate an obstacle course blind and deaf. J'ret already believed that Kirk could do anything, and so wasn't impressed with the magnitude of this feat.

Torbet was as astonished as Anastia, though he shouldn't have been, because it was Byrd who'd suggested this test.

"You _knew_ they could do this!"

"Let's just say, I'm not in the least surprised. But that's not really the issue. How it effects the functioning of the team is the question."

Koh interjected, "Well, Torbet, so far, your team is not exceeding Kirk's team in performance or attitude. Frankly, I'm disappointed. I thought this would be more of a close contest."

"Kirk proposed the SDU's just so he could show off! It's not a fair contest. My people have no experience with this, and he obviously has a lot."

"Perhaps, but Spock and Young don't," Chuck replied. "However, I would not object to taking the SDU's off your team. Or you may want to give them some instruction, or even make Kirk train them. I'm flexible; whatever you think is fair."

"How would you propose we have Kirk train them?"

Koh had an idea. "Put Kirk and Rishon in a room by themselves and see what happens. Don't tell him anything; just watch what he does."

It took Koh about 15 minutes to set it up. But they didn't wait for the teams to finish the current assignment before pulling Kirk and Rishon out.

Kirk had been concentrating on keeping up with Spock, when suddenly, Spock wasn't there. Neither was the balance beam he'd been running along. Before he could react enough to stop, he ran into a wall. Recovering, he turned his back to the wall, and wondered what was going on.

*Spock, I'm fine, but don't wait for me. This feels like something Koh would do.*

*Gravity is Standard. That's why you're sure you're not in Third's room.*

*Will I get used to your answering questions I didn't know I was asking?*

*Unlikely. This experience has already encountered situations I did not anticipate. Given your ongoing difficulty with dual sets of sensory input, you will undoubtedly wish to sever this link at the earliest possible opportunity.*

*Which won't be for awhile yet. Meanwhile I better find out what's in this room besides me.*

The judges watched Kirk systematically search the entire room.

"Why doesn't he say anything? How does he know where he is?" Torbet questioned.

"He knows he's not here with us. He would sense the gravity difference immediately," Chuck volunteered.

At this point, Kirk encountered Rishon, who was standing motionless in the middle of the room. Within moments he had discovered that this figure wore an SDU. He placed the man's hand on his own head, communicating that he too wore an SDU. Then he put fingers on the Starfleet emblem on his chest. Finally he spelled his name on the man's chest. However this appeared unsuccessful because of the man's body armor. Kirk tried again, this time on the palm of the hand.

"You're Kirk?! What are you doing here?"

Kirk, of course, did not hear this outburst, but he could sense the man's agitation. Reasonably certain this was one of the Romulans, Kirk asked for his name. The man would have spelled into Kirk's hand, but he urged him to spell on his chest instead.

R - I - S - H - O - N

"You're Rishon?!"

It was Kirk's turn to be surprised. But his response was immediate. He put Rishon's hands on his own face, inviting him to initiate a mind-meld.

*You invite me?!*

*It's a whole lot faster than spelling words. Only problem is the judges won't hear it. But they don't hear spelled words either. Is there anybody else in this room?*

*I have no idea.*

*Then you don't know what we're doing here any more than I do?*

*I know nothing about anything since I put on this SDU. How do you tolerate the utter isolation?*

*By finding other ways to communicate. Spelling words is one way; yes/no questions can be answered with a squeeze: one squeeze for yes, two for no. There's nothing wrong with your ability to talk. Teach your teammates how to talk to you. But I must tell you. A major part of my ability to cope with this is that I'm not afraid of it. Koh had me in complete isolation for a week last year, and it didn't drive me crazy.*

*That's because you have Spock.*

*At that time I did not have Spock, nor do I need his presence to keep fear at bay. I do have the Lord Jesus Christ, though in all honesty, I don't know that I would have feared it even without the Lord.*

*Why are you so freely telling me how to cope? Don't you want your team to win?*

*Is your team not doing well then?*

*How should I know? I sense the bodies in the box, because they're so close. Otherwise, I'm clueless. I think some of them are angry, but I don't know why.*

*Sounds like your team could use some help.*

*Why should you care?*

*Just believe that I do. If the judges would let me talk to your team, do you think they would listen?*

*Frankly, I doubt it. A mind-meld is different. You cannot deceive me.*

*Why would I wish to? Anyway, I'll ask the judges. If they permit it, I will try.*

But Torbet concurred with Rishon. It would be a waste of time. So the judges agreed to remove the SDU's from the Romulan team.

"Do we leave them on Kirk's team?" Torbet raised the question.

"I don't see why not!" Koh retorted.

"Do we tell Kirk what we're doing?"

"Of course not. The decision of the judges is final. As a contestant, he has no right to object. Nor would he anyway, in my opinion."

"And Mr. Byrd, do you object?"

"No, sir. Whatever you want to do is fine with me."

xxxx

Anastia's group beat Spock and Young to the box by a few minutes, but only by running for most of the path.

"Where's Kirk?" she asked. "I saw him disappear, but he shouldn't have been gone this long."

Konti spelled for Spock.

"They placed him in an empty room with Rishon. They have been talking."

"Rishon's wearing an SDU. How could they talk? What are they talking about? And what are the judges trying to do?" Anastia was irritated with yet another element to this game that was completely out of her control.

"Rishon can perform the Vulcan mind-meld," Spock reminded them. "They talked about how to communicate. Apparently the opposing team is having trouble with the SDU's, among other things. I do not know the judges' purpose in arranging this encounter. Rishon has left, and Kirk is alone. Doubtless, he will be returned to us shortly."

Nothing happened for several minutes, and Anastia got tired of waiting.

"Konti, no sign of Kirk?"

"None."

"Ask Spock what he knows."

"Nothing is happening," Spock reported. "Are there other things we need to discuss?"

"Not that I know of. What does Kirk think we need to talk about?" Anastia asked.

A longer pause before the reply.

"He wishes to confirm that Anastia is in charge in his absence. Also, he has some concern that the judges are trying to divide our team - the three of you against Kirk, Young, and myself. This we must not permit them to do. It is largely a mental attitude, since we cannot control the things they tell us to do.

"For example in the exercise we just completed, did you feel we were one team with two parts, all striving for the same goal? Or were we two teams competing against each other to arrive here first?" Spock raised an eyebrow at her even though he knew she couldn't see the gesture. Making it helped him vocalize the nuances of meaning.

"There _was_ an element of competition. I was amazed you could move so fast along a path you could not see. But I see what you're saying. How can we work at changing the attitude though?" Anastia was intrigued with the concept, and her wariness thawed just a little as a result.

Spock allowed Kirk to feed him the words he wanted Anastia to hear. "Being aware of the issue is half the battle. Use black box time for personal sharing. The more we know of each other, the more closely we will feel like a team. Where possible, assign work in different configurations of pairs, giving us opportunity to work closely with each of the others."

"You sound like you expect Kirk to be gone a long time."

"I do not believe so, but the more you know of what he would do, the better you will function as his second-in-command."

"Spock, you are Kirk's second-in-command. Do you not resent being displaced?"

"No. I understand his reasons for choosing you, and it does not in any way undermine my relationship with him." Spock tried to reassure her on this point.

"How can it not?"

"I cannot explain to you the commitment and deep level of trust on which we operate. It has no parallel by which I could describe it. If time permits, there are a number of stories I could share, which would give you some idea. For now, suffice it to say that there is no one else in the galaxy with whom I would join minds as I have done with Kirk. It is not a thing to be undertaken lightly."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Suddenly the box disappeared and Kirk stood among them. Konti stepped up and began spelling.

O - K - ?

"Konti, is that you?"

Yes.

"Where are we? What's happening?"

Y-O-U W-E-R-E G-O-N-E

"Never mind that. What are we supposed to be doing?"

N-O I-N-S-T-R-U-C-T-I-O-N-S

"Are we all here?"

Yes.

"Describe what you see."

F-O-R-E-S-T M-A-T-U-R-E M-I-X-E-D H-A-R-D-W-O-O-D P-A-T-H

"Hills?" Yes. "Climate temperate?" Yes. "Are we in a small clearing?" Yes. "Which way is the path?"

Konti pointed Kirk's finger at the path.

"Spock, check out the boulders. Konti, do you hear anything like the sound of a large animal approaching?"

No.

"No boulders, Captain," Spock reported as he returned to the clearing.

"Okay. We do this the hard way. If this is the program I think it is, about five minutes down that path, we encounter an enormous bear. As soon as you see him, get off the path and climb a tree. Anastia, you decide the order of march."

She put herself first, and J'ret in the rear. Konti was second, followed by Kirk, Spock, and Young. Kirk found that walking on a dirt path was much more difficult than the balance beam, and he stumbled repeatedly.

The second time he fell into Konti, he muttered under his breath. "Too bad you don't have a leash."

Kirk chuckled, but Konti shuddered, as he remembered that long walk through the city. After the fourth or fifth fall, Konti took Kirk's hand, and they made better progress. Spock and Young did not need such assistance. Kirk wondered at that, but didn't stop to discuss it with Spock.

Five minutes came and went with no bear. After ten minutes with no sign of any large animal, Anastia called a halt to confer.

N-O B-E-A-R W-H-A-T N-O-W-?

"Since we've been given no instructions, we have several options. We could stay here and wait for something to happen; we could plunge off the path and go exploring; we could return to the clearing in which we started; or we can continue the way we're going and find out where the path leads. The bear may yet appear, or they may have taken the basic terrain from that program and be doing something entirely different with it. Do any of you see something about this situation that I don't?"

Anastia responded, "It would undoubtedly be easiest for you if we stayed here."

"I don't consider that a valid criteria. The contest is not supposed to be easy. And with Konti's help, I'm managing."

"It must be galling to need help from your enemy."

"No, it's not. The team cannot function well unless we are each ready and willing to help the others on the team. I told you, for the duration of the contest, personal enmity is a non-issue. Ask Konti if I am his enemy, or if he resents having to help me."

"Well, Konti?"

"I understand that helping Kirk is necessary in order to win. Therefore, I do not resent doing so." He hoped his tone of voice conveyed the exact opposite meaning.

"But you _are_ his enemy?"

Konti didn't answer the question. "To win this contest, such personal issues must be set aside."

"Why is winning this contest so important to you, that you would abandon a matter of personal honor?" Anastia objected.

"How is my personal honor affected in this?"

"Is it not a matter of personal honor to avenge yourself upon an enemy?"

"I have already avenged myself on Kirk many times, both personally and on behalf of my government. Do you not know what we did to him on the planet below?"

"I heard it was unsuccessful," she volunteered.

"Imagine the worst agony you can think of; multiply it by a factor of four; then double that; and finally double it again. This agony goes on for hours upon hours, while you are pumped full of a drug that makes you perceive this doubled intensity without permitting your body to retreat into unconsciousness. That is what we did to Kirk, and he steadfastly refused to talk. So yes, it was unsuccessful," Konti concluded.

"If anybody had done that to me, I'd kill them at the first opportunity. But Kirk acts as if we're all bosom buddies. How can he tolerate your presence, let alone your touch? Has he no honor? Is he insane?"

Konti spelled for Kirk, who prayed for the Lord's anointing on his answer.

"No, I am not crazy, nor have I sacrificed my honor. But my honor is based on an entirely different set of rules than what you are familiar with. For me, the highest personal honor is achieved by honoring, respecting, and caring for my greatest enemy. But the honor cannot be obtained by merely pretending to care for my enemy until an opportunity arises to avenge myself. I must give up all thought of ever avenging myself. In fact, I can't even think about personal vengeance. All thought must be focused on what is best for him, rather than for me."

"That still sounds crazy to me. If he's thinking about what's best for you, then why did he refuse to talk?" Anastia asked Konti.

"His refusal to talk was a necessity dictated by his government. Have you never encountered a situation in which personal honor must be set aside for the sake of a higher duty to your empire?"

"On one or two occasions, yes. Spell this for me: Kirk, are you telling me you actually have positive feelings for Konti in spite of what he has done to you?"

Kirk smiled. "I've liked Konti since the day I met him. He handled a difficult situation with integrity and a measure of generosity I hadn't expected. And all the agony since then hasn't changed my opinion of him as a person. But what I'm talking about really has nothing to do with my feelings about him. It's a choice, not a feeling. And because I've made that choice, whatever I feel about the agony is irrelevant, and doesn't affect my relationship with him."

"You're dreaming! It _has_ to affect you, whether you know it or not. The level of agony Konti described has marked you for life. It has to have!" Anastia was adamant.

"If you were able, I would invite you to examine my mind and see for yourself. In fact, Spock could show you, if you are willing. However, that should probably wait for black box time. We are presently in the middle of a forest. Has anything in the environment changed?" Kirk asked.

"How can you keep in focus something you can neither see nor hear?"

Konti assumed the question rhetorical and didn't bother to spell. Instead he looked around for changes, but saw nothing.

"Captain," it was Spock. "The temperature has dropped by several degrees, air pressure is falling, and wind is starting to pick up."

"A storm, then. Anastia, do you see anything we could use for shelter?"

"No, not really."

"Was there anything that we already passed?"

"Not that I recall."

"Okay, onwards then. Move as fast as we can before the storm hits. If we don't find shelter, slow down as necessary to negotiate the terrain."

They moved out quickly but found no shelter. Within five minutes, it was pouring rain, cold and biting. Soaked to the skin within seconds, they began slipping and sliding on the muddy path. Kirk began laughing. All but Anastia understood his motive, but the laughter was contagious nonetheless. Within minutes, all were chuckling, even Anastia. They slogged through the mud for half an hour, getting rather thoroughly covered, as they continued to fall in it repeatedly.

Anastia could not see very well through the curtain of rain. Her impression, however, was that they were going more downhill than uphill. She began to notice a thicker area of gray up ahead, and she slowed their pace as they approached. Suddenly seeing more clearly, she stopped dead in her tracks. Konti plowed into her as the others plowed into him.

"Sorry. I think we've got problems. Do you see what I see?"

Konti looked past her.

"Looks like we're on the edge of a canyon. Can't see the other side through the rain, if there even is another side."

"Oh yes, there is. Look at that." She pointed with a long, slender finger.

He saw a thick rope which disappeared into the mist.

"We're supposed to cross on that?!"

"It would appear so. What does Kirk think?"

Konti spelled out the situation.

"What is the rope anchored to on this side?"

T - R - E - E

"Check its stability."

J'ret carefully maneuvered to the edge and leaned into the rope, testing the strength of the knot.

"Looks good to me, sir."

Kirk took off his belt and gave it to Spock.

"How thick is the rope, and what's it made of?"

"Two inch hemp, looks like, sir."

"Everybody rip strips off your uniform and tie them around your hands. J'ret, you probably don't need to do this, but the rest of us need to protect against rope burn."

Spock was busy constructing a harness from his and Kirk's belts.

"Konti, take J'ret's belt and build yourself a harness like what Spock is doing. Anastia, do likewise with yours and Young's."

They complied, and Spock tapped out for Young what was going on.

"Konti, you'll go first. Attach the harness to the rope here, and here." He pointed on his own harness. "When you get to the other side, step on the rope three times in quick succession. I will feel the wave created, and I'll start Young across. When he gets there, send me the same signal. When I get there, give me all four belts, and I'll bring them back here. Any questions?"

No.

"Off you go then."

It took Konti a full five minutes to reach the other side. Young managed it in four and a half. Then it was Kirk's turn. He attached the harness and began pulling himself along with his hands. He wrapped his legs around the rope, using the harness only for a safety catch.

The first half was easy because the rope sloped downhill. The second half was work, and Kirk was sweating by the time he felt Konti's hand on his head. Konti helped him negotiate the rocks on this side. He strapped the extra belts around his chest, reattached himself to the rope and returned to the other side. J'ret helped him at the landing.

"Okay, Anastia, you're next." He sent her off with a smile. "You're in charge til I get there," he called.

Four minutes later, he got the signal that she'd arrived.

"J'ret, it's your turn."

"Sir, I wish you could hear me. I'm worried about the tree. There's so much mud."

"Are you worried? Don't look down; just keep putting hand over hand. With your long arms, you'll be there in no time."

So J'ret left, praying the tree's roots would hold.

*Spock, how do you plan to convince Anastia that you should be the one to return for me?*

*We could each make do with one belt. There would then be no need.*

Spock took off the harness and returned Kirk's belt. By the time J'ret arrived, Spock was ready to go. After Spock left, Kirk sat on the bank waiting. Suddenly, he felt the ground give way under him in a massive mud slide. It was instinct to grab the rope as _terra firma_ disappeared.

There was no time to plan and little time to pray. The seconds it took for him to swing to the other side seemed to go by in slow motion. He tucked his head between his arms and prayed that nothing fatal would break on impact.

Spock hit first and Kirk felt his leg break under the impact. Shortly thereafter, Kirk himself hit and acquired a broken arm. As he clung to the rope, he felt it swing away from the rocks. At least his impression was that the cliff-side was rocky. As the rope swung inward again, Kirk let go and fell free. But he only fell a few feet, landing feet first on a gravely slope. Digging in his heels, he slid a short distance and stopped. Cradling his broken arm, he turned his attention upward.

*Spock, I'm off the rope. So don't worry about me.*

*You took quite a risk, Jim.*

*Better than getting battered on the rocks. You sure you can make it?*

*I cannot stay here. Going up seems a better choice than joining you.*

Suddenly Kirk felt contact with something that seemed like tree branches. Developing a quick mental picture, he turned and began scrambling up the gravel slope, trying to get above the level of the tree still attached to the bottom of the rope. He climbed about fifty feet and ran into an overhead outcrop of rock. Trusting it to protect him from the tree, he dug into the gravel to secure his position.

*I concur; going up is the better choice.*

Kirk felt the ground shudder under the impact of the tree trunk, but apparently he was high enough to avoid it.

*From the changed behavior of the rope, I deduce the tree to be no longer attached. Possibly the rope has broken.*

*I'll see if I can find a way to climb higher, but you better get started before you pass out.*

*I have no intentions of losing consciousness, but now that the rope is more stable, I will commence attempting to reach the top. No doubt our teammates wonder if we're alive.*

Anastia, Konti, and J'ret stared in shocked horror as the rope descended from view. It was not raining on this side, but they could not see through the mist to observe what had happened.

J'ret voiced his conclusion. "Mud slide took out the anchor tree. But one of them was undoubtedly on the rope when it gave."

"Konti, grab my feet," Anastia ordered.

She lay down, inched her way to the edge, and peered over. After a moment, she signaled Konti to pull her back.

"I can't be sure who it is, but one of them is on that rope. And he must be conscious, or he would have fallen."

"It must be Spock. Kirk was going to send him after me."

"Which means Kirk is either stranded on the other side, or buried in mud at the bottom of this canyon."

"If he were dead, they would have stopped the program."

"We can hope so. Right now however, our priority is Spock. I don't want to go down the rope, because I might dislodge him, if he's only half conscious. We need another way down. J'ret you look that way; I'll go this way; but don't go more than a hundred yards. Konti, you tell Young what's going on."

xxxx

Meanwhile things in the control room were threatening to be out-of-control. Torbet was yelling at Koh. "What did you do that for? We're not supposed to be killing them off!"

"I didn't do it!" Koh insisted. "This program has gone wild."

"Are they alive?!"

"Yes, but they shouldn't be. Do the physics. Oh Lord, Kirk's falling! Look at that! Did you see it? That rock wall suddenly turned into a gravel slope! It's either a miracle, or there's things about this program I don't know."

He began punching in commands.

"It's locked up on me. I can't do a thing with it!" Koh hit the board in frustration.

"What about the other team?" Torbet anxiously demanded an answer.

The Romulans hadn't reached the cliff yet.

"No interference here at all. Everything's responding normally."

"Then put them back in the black box now. It must be a glitch in the cliff scene."

With the Romulan team safe, they watched the drama on Kirk's team continue, helpless to stop it. Chuck watched in grim silence. He guessed who was behind this. But he was reasonably certain Kirk didn't want him to blab, so he kept silent.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Konti finished spelling the facts to Young.

"Spock will climb the rope," Young concluded. "And he will know where Kirk is."

Anastia and J'ret returned, having found no way down. Konti reported Young's opinion. So Anastia peeked over the edge again.

"Young's right, he's definitely closer. I can now see that it is Spock. So I guess all we can do is wait for him to get here."

Spock had to stop twice to get his pain management under control. He was using his good leg to fend off the rocks, but it was only partly successful.

Kirk searched in both directions for a break in the overhanging rock, but found none. Returning to his original position, he slid downhill a few feet, so as to be seen from above. Then he settled down to wait.

Spock's head rose into view, and Konti reached to help him up.

"My left leg is broken," Spock reported.

Konti tried to be careful with it, but ended up dragging Spock away from the edge. He lay Spock down on his back, but Spock immediately sat up. Konti tried to examine the leg, but Spock stopped him.

"Leave that for now. Rescuing Kirk is a more immediate concern. When the bank on the opposite side gave, he grabbed the rope and was swung to this side. After the initial impact, he let go of the rope and dropped onto a gravel slope. He has not been able to find a way to climb higher. His way is blocked by a rock overhang. He has a broken arm, but is otherwise mobile. I do not know whether the rope still extends low enough to reach him. It may have broken after he let go of it."

"I'm going down that rope," Anastia decided, "to see what I can see. Tell Kirk to stay put. I'll be back in five minutes."

It actually took her closer to ten minutes. Upon returning, she observed that Young was setting Spock's leg. They had obtained splints and a crutch from the surrounding woods. The leg was a swollen, ugly, dark green, but the bone had not broken through the skin. Spock declared he would be mobile as soon as Young was finished. Anastia reported her findings.

"I saw Kirk. He's sitting on the only gravel slope that exists on the entire cliff. The rope is broken about seventy feet above him. It's going to take some rock climbing to get to him, and with a broken arm, I'm not sure he can get out even if we get to him."

Konti protested, "You're not suggesting we leave him there?!"

"When was the last time you tried to do any rock climbing without tools? And even if we get there without falling, how could he climb out with only one arm?"

"I don't know, but I'm not leaving here without him."

"You'll do what I tell you to! Kirk left me in charge, remember?"

Anastia glared at Konti, daring him to argue. Konti stared right back, aware that Kirk himself would undoubtedly tell them to abandon him.

"I will obey you, but may I respectfully remind you what this contest is supposed to be testing?" Konti spit out.

"Our ability to work as a team. But if I lose one or more of us trying to rescue him, is that good teamwork?" Anastia barked back at him.

"Neither is abandoning a team member in the face of difficulties."

"Talk to Spock. Find out what he thinks. And I don't just want him to repeat Kirk's orders. I want Spock's personal opinion," Anastia demanded.

So Konti spelled to Spock, who simultaneously relayed to Young the issue being discussed. Spock did not have to ask Kirk's opinion; he knew without thought, because they had encountered many such situations in the past.

"Were there a mission goal which required us to move on, Kirk would order you to abandon him without hesitation. And indeed, you would need to abandon me also. However, that is not the case. This situation has been specifically engineered to find out what you will do. It would be safest for the greatest number of team members for you not to attempt to rescue Kirk. And he is in no immediate danger, so perhaps that is what you should do."

"But it's not what you would do?"

"Do you mean if I were in charge of this group, or if I were alone?"

"Either, or both," Anastia clarified.

"Were I alone, I would attempt to find something in the surrounding woods that could be used as a rope."

"Good idea. J'ret, see what you can find."

"Even if I could not construct additional rope, I would attempt to negotiate the rocks. I might be able to reach him with the aid of my belt, or even this stick."

"You would go rock-climbing with a broken leg?!"

"Yes, if I was his only hope for rescue," Spock confirmed.

"Why not stay here and leave him there, and wait for them to end the program?"

"Because that is not what I would do in real life. I am not accustomed to waiting for someone else to fix my problems."

"You consider rescuing Kirk to be your problem?" Anastia questioned.

"You asked what I would do if I were alone. Providing rescue to someone in need is something I would do for anyone. The broken leg is a complication and could prove a limiting factor, but does not negate my readiness to help."

J'ret returned with a negative report on rope building materials.

"Okay, thanks. It was a good idea, but we're back to rock climbing. What does Spock think we should do, given that he's not alone?"

Konti spelled. Young broke into the conversation.

"I will go get Kirk." He sat down and began to remove his boots and socks.

"Wait a minute! Konti, get over here and spell to Young. Why does he think he can get Kirk?"

"I have climbing experience," Young replied. "Without rope, hammer, and pitons, it's a finger and toe job, and sight is relatively unimportant."

"How will he find Kirk?" Anastia asked Konti.

"He's seventy feet directly below the bottom of the rope."

"And how will he get Kirk out of there?"

"It would be helpful to borrow a few belts," Young requested.

"And what about the broken arm? Don't tell me Kirk has climbing experience too?! And even if he does, nobody can do it with only one arm!"

"With only one hand, the toe holds become increasingly crucial. But it _can_ be done. I do not know what experience Kirk has, but this I do know. He will not panic, and he will do exactly what I tell him to do," Young insisted.

"Very well, but I'm going with you," Anastia decided.

It took only a few minutes for Anastia and Young to reach the bottom of the rope.

"Describe for me the character of the rock face: ledges, cracks, shale, outcroppings; and where they are located. What exactly are we dealing with here?"

So Anastia spelled what she saw, slowly and laboriously. When Young had the picture, he set off with confidence. Anastia followed, using the same holds. The first ten feet were random cracks and protuberances. Then they came to a ledge about four inches wide, running horizontally. About twenty feet to the right, they encountered a wide crack that extended downward, sloping back the way they had come.

About twenty-five feet down that, the crack closed up, and they were again searching for random finger and toe holds. They came to a six-inch wide ledge, but it was only a few feet long. Young lay down and began searching with his hands for a way down. But the rock below this ledge offered no purchase. Anastia spelled that there was another ledge below this one perhaps ten feet.

With two of the belts, Young lowered himself to the next ledge, using Anastia as an anchor. Then she lowered herself onto his shoulders, and then to the ledge. They repeated this maneuver twice, and thus came to the wide ledge above the outcropping over Kirk's head. The only way past this obstacle was to rappel down it using all five belts. Young anchored himself as best he could and sent Anastia down to get Kirk.

The belts extended only a few feet below the edge of the rock outcropping, so Anastia lowered herself and dropped the last six feet, not entirely sure how she was going to get back up. She picked herself up and looked around. Kirk was some twenty feet away, standing with a large rock in his hand, looking in her direction.

Her first thought was that he intended to attack her with the rock. But he turned and put the rock down, adding it to a pile of rocks behind him. Then she understood that he had been busy building a tower to reach the rocks above. And the place he had chosen to build it was beneath a slightly lower ceiling of the outcropping above. Given enough time, he would have gotten himself out of there.

But he was again looking in her direction, waiting for her to approach. _How does he know I'm here_, she wondered. She walked up to him and spelled the question.

"Spock told me you were coming. I felt the vibration when you landed. And I can smell you. Where's Young?"

Instead of answering him, she grabbed his arm and pulled him to a spot directly under the belts. Again without any explanation, she climbed onto his shoulders, grabbed the belt line, and hoisted herself back up to Young. He neither objected nor seemed alarmed at being abandoned again.

She spelled to Young what she wanted and led him along the ledge to a point directly above Kirk's tower. By the time she had lowered herself once more, she discovered Kirk was standing on his three-foot-high tower, apparently waiting for her. As soon as her feet touched his shoulders, he handed up his own belt for her to attach to the rest. She did so, then dropped to the ground beside him.

Kirk had taken off his boots and socks, and tucked his right hand into the top of his pants. He had used his belt for a sling, but was now doing without it. Anastia tied his boots together and slung them over her shoulder.

Y-O-U F-I-R-S-T

Without hesitation, he reached his left hand up, found the belt, grabbed it, and hoisted himself upward. Anastia got under him and supported his feet, so he could get a higher grip with his hand. After the fourth upward push, he was high enough to grip the belt between his knees and feet. Anastia followed closely in case he slipped, but he didn't. He ignored the outcropping rock banging against his body, and clung to the belts instead.

He reached the ledge and Young helped him stand. Anastia was right behind him, and gathered the belt rope over her shoulder.

"Now what?" Kirk asked.

Anastia led him back along the ledge to a point below the first upper ledge. Giving Young the belt rope, she sent him up first. He stood on Kirk's shoulders, and was up in moments. Then she spelled for Kirk to get on her shoulders, and Young grabbed his arm from above. Lastly, Young lowered the belt rope for her to climb. They repeated this maneuver twice more without mishap.

Then they came to the first finger and toe hold section. Young gave the belt rope back to Anastia and sent her up first.

"Keep going all the way up. This is going to take awhile, and you can't help."

So she started up. When she got to the crack, she looked down and saw that Young was below Kirk, giving him precise signals on where to put his feet. Kirk's body leaned into the rock without regard for the broken arm. His good hand sometimes found a handhold, but often not. Their progress was slow but steady. Their faces were composed and peaceful. No sign of pain, panic, or trauma. They could have been strolling in the park for all the effort that showed on their faces.

As they got closer, Anastia moved on up the crack. She reached the ledge and followed it back to a point ten feet below the rope. For some reason, the last few feet seemed overwhelming. She waited until Kirk and Young reached the top of the crack before starting up once more. She moved slowly, and it seemed as if the finger and toe holds were harder to find.

She was within two feet of the rope when she lost her hold and began falling. She slid down the rock face, unable to halt her fall. _No way to warn them,_ she thought. _I'm going to kill us all._ She had time to notice that she regretted killing them, and to be surprised at her regret. Then she slammed into Kirk, one foot on his head, one cupped in his left hand. And she stopped falling.

In fact, they had both felt her approach and were braced for the impact. Young's hands supported Kirk's feet, providing additional anchors.

Anastia took a deep breath, realized she was going to live, and resumed climbing. A few minutes later, they were all on the rope. Anastia climbed rapidly, Kirk and Young more slowly. Kirk was having a little trouble ignoring the pain, and relied more heavily on Young for support as they climbed.

*Spock, I'm sure you've thought of this, but stay off that leg til I get there. It hurts as bad as my arm, maybe worse.*

*I have been attempting to avoid distracting you.*

*Thanks. Any idea how much longer?*

*Anastia has just arrived. Do you wish an estimate of the length of the rope?*

*Never mind. We'll get there when we get there. I owe Young for this. I feel like such a weakling.*

*He will not permit you to pay, any more than I would.*

*I'm not surprised. See you soon.*

Anastia sat by herself, pondering what had occurred below. She owed Kirk her life. She had gone down there to rescue him. He hadn't needed rescuing, though he had readily accepted the help offered. He trusted both Young and herself with his life, was quite competent at rock climbing, even with a broken arm, and had absorbed the momentum from her fall without himself being dislodged.

She saw Kirk's head appear over the edge of the cliff. She stood up and took a deep breath, ready to do what honor demanded. Konti stepped up, grabbed Kirk's good arm, and hauled him to his feet in one smooth pull. Kirk laughed. Anastia was startled, and did not comprehend the celebration of life in Kirk's voice.

J'ret brought Kirk to Spock, while Konti helped Young up. When they were both seated next to Spock, Kirk spoke.

"Well, that was quite a bit more of an adventure than we planned on. Thank you both for the rescue. Anastia, if you'll return each belt to its owner, we can move on. I presume there's a path on this side."

Anastia stepped toward Kirk and drew her honor blade. J'ret half-rose in alarm at the sight, but Konti waved him back, staring fixedly at Anastia.

"What happened down there that is a matter of honor?" he demanded.

"Please spell every word. This is very important. I will speak slowly."

A-N-A-S-T-I-A S-P-E-A-K-S T-O Y-O-U

Kirk sensed the mood and stood up, facing Anastia.

"Kirk, I owe you my life. Had you not stopped my fall, I would now be dead. My life is yours. In recognition of this debt, I give you my honor blade."

She held it out, hilt first, in an open palm.

"You may kill me with it, or simply keep the blade. As long as you hold my blade, you may require my allegiance and obedience. This obligation is higher than that owed to government or family. I do not know of an instance in which such an obligation was owed to a non-Romulan. It would be simpler to kill me now and be done with it."

She dropped to her knees and continued to hold out the knife to Kirk.

S-H-E K-N-E-E-L-S & O-F-F-E-R-S B-L-A-D-E

_Help me, Lord,_ Kirk prayed.

"Anastia, I will not kill you. To do so would be a severe violation of my honor code. But I do not wish to belittle your code of honor. Are there any other alternatives besides the two you mentioned?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is there any other means by which you could discharge your obligation? Can I simply forgive the debt?"

"Forgive it? If I understand the term correctly, no, you cannot. It is not something you hold me to, but rather what I hold myself to. You cannot erase it. Why would you wish to? You are entitled to compensation for what you did for me."

"What if you freely permit me to inflict a wound which could be fatal, but subsequently proves not to be? Would that discharge your obligation?"

Anastia thought for a moment. "You mean, if you tried to kill me but were unsuccessful?"

"No, that's not what I mean. The obligation is something you hold yourself to, so what's important is your attitude, regardless of my intention. If you willingly permit me to inflict the wound, not knowing whether it will be fatal, by accident or design, then the actual severity of the wound is irrelevant. What's important is your complete lack of resistance. Would such an act discharge your obligation to me?"

"It would give you pleasure to exercise such power over me?"

"Does that matter?"

Thoughtfully, "no, it doesn't," she admitted. "Yes, I would consider the obligation discharged, if you did such a thing."

"Then put the knife in my hand, and don't move unless I tell you to."

xxxx

Torbet watched the screen in stoney silence with fists clenched. If Kirk killed Anastia, he would kill Kirk. That conviction was obvious in every line of his body. Koh and Chuck watched Torbet as much as Kirk.

xxxx

*Okay, Spock, how do I do this?*

*The neck would be easiest, perhaps under the hair.*

*Could you be a bit more precise? An accident is unacceptable.*

So Spock gave Kirk a mental picture of exactly where to place the knife.

"Put your head down. Lift your hair off the back of your neck."

Anastia picked up the hair and held it with both hands on the top of her head. It took all her self-control to suppress the trembling in her arms. _This is harder than I thought it would be. I wish he would get on with it,_ she thought. She felt the flat of the blade in the center of her back, and suppressed a gasp. Very slowly, he drew the knife up her spine to her neck. She shut her eyes and clenched her jaw. _I will not scream_, she vowed.

She hardly felt the wound itself. The next thing she knew, Kirk's hand was firmly pressed against a spot on her neck about two inches to the right of her spine.

"It's going to bleed a little, but not enough to be serious, I hope. Konti, have we got any bandage material?"

No.

"Well, keep an eye on it then, if you would. Anastia will undoubtedly simply ignore it."

He grinned at her, and held out the blade.

"Please accept the return of your honor blade, Anastia. Your obligation to me is fulfilled. My apologies for taking so long. With only one hand and no sight, I had to be very sure of my aim."

In a daze, she accepted the knife, and allowed him to help her up. He seemed to sense her confusion, and covered it with brisk instructions to the group. Konti hauled Spock to his feet, and Kirk suppressed a groan as the pain in his leg knifed all the way up his spine. Convincing his mind that his leg wasn't broken was beyond him, but forcing his body to support his weight in spite of the agony was doable, just barely.

J'ret was in the lead, followed by Spock, then Konti. Kirk was next, with Anastia closely following. Young brought up the rear. Konti ignored Kirk, concentrating on making sure Spock did not fall. Unmindful of the Vulcan's desire not to be touched, Konti frequently held him by the arms to prevent him stumbling to the ground.

Anastia divided her attention between Kirk and Young. After the first few minutes, it was clear Young needed no help. Kirk, on the other hand, was limping with no apparent cause. Suddenly she remembered he was linked to Spock, who had a broken leg. How could she have forgotten?! He paused every time Spock stumbled, but neither of them made a sound. Suddenly Spock disappeared, leaving behind both crutch and leg splints. Kirk immediately crumpled to the ground.

"J'ret, hold up!" Anastia called.

They gathered around Kirk, who didn't wait to be asked.

"I'm fine; Spock is fine. They've taken him to the control room. He'll probably be back soon. Let's take along the crutch and splints. The bone will have to be reset when he gets back."

He struggled to his feet and would have resumed slow progress down the path.

"Wait!" Anastia restrained him. "Why is Spock in the control room? Is something wrong with the holodeck?"

"I doubt it. Remember, the judges can remove any of us at any time. Don't worry - Spock won't forfeit."

xxxx

Spock found himself on the floor of Third's room. Transport had occurred at the moment when his weight had been on the crutch. He could feel that the bone was again out of alignment. McCoy would not be happy when he finally got his hands on this leg. Meanwhile Spock did his best to ignore it. He awkwardly got up and stood with his weight balanced on one foot.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" he inquired mildly.

Someone Spock guessed to be Chuck approached and began spelling for him.

J-U-D-G-E-S A-S-K D-O Y-O-U C-H-O-O-S-E T-O C-O-N-T-I-N-U-E-?

"Yes, I choose to continue. Why would you think otherwise?"

I-N-J-U-R-Y

"A broken leg is not sufficient reason to forfeit. It does not incapacitate me; it is merely inconvenient. Immediate medical care is not essential in order to ensure survival. I will have it attended to when the contest is over. Do you have other questions?"

I-N-J-U-R-Y C-A-U-S-E-D B-Y G-L-I-T-C-H I-N P-R-O-G-R-A-M C-A-N-T G-U-A-R-A-N-T-E-E W-O-N-T H-A-P-P-E-N A-G-A-I-N

"Why do you think the program is malfunctioning? Please describe symptoms."

So Chuck told Spock they'd been locked out of the cliff scene, unable to halt or change it. Everything seemed to be working fine now.

"And the other team? Were you locked out there also?"

No. T-H-E-Y H-A-D N-O-T S-T-A-R-T-E-D C-L-I-F-F

"And when they did?"

T-H-E-Y D-I-D-N-T W-E P-U-T T-H-E-M I-N B-O-X

"Evidence does not point to program malfunction. Rather, the program was temporarily taken over by another entity, one who knows the program very well. I suspect he found the action on the holodeck to be somewhat boring. Do not be alarmed; he has much experience in keeping his victims alive. I would guess that Koh would find much in common with him."

Y-O-U D-O-N-T M-I-N-D B-E-I-N-G H-I-S V-I-C-T-I-M-?

"I am participating in this contest voluntarily. That choice would not have been altered had I known in advance that he would be running the program."

E-V-E-N I-F Y-O-U K-N-E-W H-E W-A-S G-O-I-N-G T-O G-I-V-E Y-O-U A B-R-O-K-E-N L-E-G-?

"That is correct."

So they sent Spock back to his team, where they efficiently reset the leg and bound it again with splints. Within minutes, they were again slogging through the mud.

Meanwhile the judges were debating whether to send the Romulan team through the cliff scene. Torbet thought it was too dangerous, but was too proud to say so. Koh insisted the teams had to face equivalent challenges or no fair judgment could be reached. They turned to Chuck for an opinion.

"I think it's too dangerous. Skip it and go on to the next thing."

Torbet responded as Chuck had predicted. "It is not too dangerous for my team. Do it, Koh."

Koh fed in the commands and the Romulans faced the cliff scene. _First better not mess this up,_ thought Chuck. _Dead Romulans would not improve the situation._ They watched the Romulan team negotiate the rope. No one used any safety harness. But the rope held, no one fell, and there were no mud slides.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Kirk's team was grateful to be back in the black box. The mud had dried on their clothes, but the wind had persisted and they were all very cold.

"Close quarters has one advantage anyway," Kirk chuckled. "It's warmer. I won't ask if everyone's comfortable, but is it better than out there?"

"You and Spock have broken bones, and you're worried about our comfort?!" Anastia fumed.

"He's always like that," J'ret volunteered. "Never cares about himself. I didn't know, however, that he wouldn't care about Spock either."

"With that mind-link thing, Spock is just an extension of himself. How Spock can tolerate it, I don't know," mused Anastia.

"Mind letting us in on what you're talking about?" Kirk asked mildly.

T-E-L-L A-B-O-U-T M-I-N-D-L-I-N-K

"That's a pretty general question. Do you want a technical explanation of how it's done? Or why we did it? Or what it feels like? Or what?"

H-O-W S-P-O-C-K T-O-L-E-R-A-T-E B-E-I-N-G A-N E-X-T-E-N-S-I-O-N O-F Y-O-U-?

"An extension of me? Why would you think that?"

"Because I seldom say anything out loud," Spock contributed.

Y-O-U E-X-H-I-B-I-T N-O C-O-N-C-E-R-N F-O-R H-I-S W-E-L-F-A-R-E

"You think I don't care about his broken leg?" Kirk's tone was puzzlement, not accusation.

Y-O-U H-A-V-E N-O M-O-R-E C-O-N-C-E-R-N F-O-R H-I-M T-H-A-N Y-O-U D-O F-O-R Y-O-U-R-S-E-L-F

"Okay. I think I get it. You think that because I ignore both my injury and his, that our mind-link is such that Spock is not independent of me, that he has no will of his own, that I make all the decisions. Is that what you think?"

Yes.

"First of all, the injuries: it is true that my standard response to personal injury is to ignore it. That does not mean I ignore the injuries of those under my command. Spock prefers to ignore injuries too. And he would very much prefer that I ignore his pain than to draw attention to it by expressing concern. But neither of us is foolish enough to pretend the injuries don't exist. Our reduced capacity to function may prove detrimental to the team's ability to accomplish the tasks put to us.

"Secondly, the mind-link: Spock has a very powerful mind. On more than one occasion, he has taken over my mind, including my will and self-awareness. I do not have the ability to do that to him. In this mind-link, we each maintain our own will, thoughts, and actions. But we're aware of the other's thoughts, and feel the sensory input of the other as if it were our own.

"As to how Spock tolerates it, it was his idea in the first place. He decided the benefit was worth the risk. And he can deal with two sets of sensory input a lot easier than I can. Does this clarify?"

Yes.

"Is there anything else about the rope crossing that we need to debrief?"

Anastia wished she could talk to Kirk alone, but she knew that was impossible, so she voiced her burning question. "Why did you do what you did with the honor blade? I have never heard of such a thing."

"Are you doubting that the obligation was fulfilled?"

"No. It did exactly what you said it would. I just don't understand why you would do such a thing."

"I could not kill you, nor could I make you my slave."

"Why not?" Anastia demanded.

"Slavery is not acceptable in my culture," Kirk explained. "Besides, you are Torbet's wife. I do not wish to make an enemy of him."

"He would be obliged to honor your right to have me."

"That doesn't mean he wouldn't hate me," Kirk reasoned.

"You could have simply refused to take the blade. You are not bound by my culture's rules."

"That would not have satisfied your need to discharge your obligation."

"Why should you care?"

Kirk was absolutely sure she wouldn't understand it. "Just believe that I do."

"No, that's not good enough. I want to know _why_. You engineered this contest thing. You put me on this team. What are you really after? You don't do things without a reason. What is it? Tell me the truth."

"The truth. You will find it bizarre and difficult to believe, especially because you have prior assumptions about who and what I am."

"You're stalling, Kirk. Trying to think up a sufficiently plausible lie?" she taunted.

"No lies, Anastia." He took a deep breath. "All right, the truth - whether you understand it or not: I hope that during this contest, you will see a sufficient illustration of the power of self-giving love, that you will want it, that you will ask questions, that you will report to Torbet what you saw, heard, and felt." He paused but she didn't interrupt.

"It is relatively easy to love those who love you, but to love an enemy is a different matter entirely. To love in the face of betrayal, in the midst of agony, in spite of distrust and hatred - this cannot be done without a power outside myself. It is my hope that you will see this power in action. That is why you are here."

"Love is your reason? What is love? I thought love was your word for what happens between male and female."

"Many use the term that way, but what I'm talking about has nothing to do with sexual attraction. This kind of love gives of self over and over again, without counting the cost. It is always concerned with what is best for the other, rather than for self. It is not based on benefits received, so it is unaffected by what the other does."

"But what do you get out of it?"

"Nothing. I'm not motivated by a need to get something."

"What does motivate you?" she probed.

Kirk smiled warmly. "A desire to give."

"That's crazy. I don't understand you."

"I'm not surprised. Keep watching, and don't hesitate to ask questions."

xxxx

Things in the Romulan black box were anything but peaceful. Now that the SDU's were gone, Rishon was trying to take charge. The others resented it.

"I'm not under your authority, Rishon," one insisted.

"You diplomats always want to run things," another complained.

"Only reason you're on this team is cuz that Klingon suggested it, and Torbet couldn't refuse," a third taunted. His name was Gimor.

"How do you know that?!" Rishon protested.

"Torbet told me."

"Fine then. _You_ take charge. Somebody's got to." Rishon would have thrown his hands up in disgust if there'd been room in the box for such a gesture.

"You would obey me?!" Gimor's disbelief was silently echoed by all the others.

Rishon glared at Gimor. The man was a sub-centurion, but outranked all the others on the team. Torbet hadn't wanted to risk his best people in this fight. Rishon considered all five to be his inferiors. However, under the circumstances-

"Yes, I would. That is, if you give any orders."

Gimor bristled at that, but decided not to vent his anger. Rishon was disgusting, but he did have some power.

"I'll give orders all right, when something interesting starts happening. So far, there's been no need," he scoffed.

Suddenly the black box dissolved and they found themselves in a subterranean passage, dimly lit by phosphorescent rocks, dank and cold. They picked themselves up and looked around. Rishon stared at Gimor, daring him to take charge.

Gimor stared back, then squared his shoulders. "We'll go this way." And he led off down the tunnel.

An hour later, they came to an underground pool. Gimor declared a break, and they sat around for ten minutes, arguing about what they should do next. Predominant opinion was they should turn around and go back the other way. Rishon did not voice an opinion, so Gimor bowed to the majority and prepared to retrace their steps.

Suddenly the rocks around them shook, and a large boulder crashed within a few feet, blocking their retreat. For a moment, all was dark. As the dust cleared and they realized they were trapped, Rishon observed light coming from within the pool.

"Gimor, look - in the pool."

"So you think we can swim out of here, eh, Rishon?"

"I think it's a possibility worth considering."

There didn't seem to be any alternatives, so they all jumped into the pool and began diving to find the light source. But the light in the pool was misleading. Once under water, it seemed to come from everywhere at once. One by one, they surfaced and crawled out of the pool. But they actually surfaced in three different pools, none of which was the one they had entered by.

xxxx

Kirk's team arrived at the pool about twenty minutes later. Konti began spelling.

D-E-A-D E-N-D

"I smell water."

Yes. P-O-O-L 4-0 F-T D-I-A-M-E-T-E-R N-O W-A-Y A-R-O-U-N-D

"What about under water?"

Anastia interrupted, "That's got to be dangerous. Can't we just go back the way we came?"

Konti spelled the question.

"I doubt it, and if we did, we'd probably end up right back here at this pool. It's not here by accident, you know. So, tell me about the pool. Is the water stagnant? If not, can you tell where it's coming from or going to? Any signs of a whirlpool?"

Those that could see looked long and hard at the pool.

W-T-R S-T-I-L-L L-I-G-H-T-?

"There's an underwater light? But you're not sure?"

Yes.

"Close your eyes for two whole minutes. Then open them and see if the light is still there."

It was a long two minutes.

Yes. I-T I-S B-U-T I T-H-I-N-K I-T-S M-O-V-E-D

"Okay. We need a volunteer to dive this pool."

"I'll go," offered J'ret.

J-R-E-T

"Good choice. J'ret, find the light source and determine if we can get through to it. But don't actually go through or you may not get back. Any questions?"

"No, sir. Back in three minutes or less."

And he jumped in, upended himself, and dived out of sight. Konti and Anastia watched carefully. Suddenly the light seemed to fill the pool; then it winked out completely. A moment later, it came back on, its position wavering as before. Konti spelled to Kirk what he had seen.

"Okay, we wait the three minutes. If J'ret doesn't come back, we send another down, with instructions to dive and come right back. If we lose the second one too, then it's probably a fancy transporter, and we'll send everybody through one at a time."

"And if it's not a transporter?" Anastia wondered.

"Then J'ret will be back."

"What if he's died? What if it's a trap?"

"Anastia, this is a holodeck program, and it's being run by someone I trust. Stop worrying."

"You think Mr. Byrd is running this? Why the broken bones then?"

"No. Chuck may be giving input but Koh is the one with the expertise."

"You trust the Klingon?" Anastia questioned.

"Yes. Koh is a close friend of Konti."

"That's no reason for you to trust him. After what he did to you, I should think trust would be the last thing you'd give him."

"Nonetheless, I _do_ trust him. So does Konti," Kirk added.

"Maybe Konti better go next then."

Kirk did not voice the fact that he also trusted First, who would meddle in this program whenever he felt like it.

J'ret was not back, so Konti dived, and Anastia saw the same underwater light phenomenon. Konti did not return either. Anastia laboriously spelled the news to Kirk.

"I still think it's a transporter. But if you're worried about it, I'll go next. That way, Spock can tell you where I've gotten to, before you send the rest through. Okay?"

Yes.

The water was cold. Kirk took three deep breaths, held the last one, and dived. _Strange,_ he thought, _as used to this SDU as I am, this is emotionally difficult._ He laughed at himself and continued to dive. There was no subjective sense of any transporter operation, but with First's equipment, there wouldn't be. So when he reached the bottom of the pool, he turned and rose to the surface.

"Konti? J'ret? Anastia's worried about you, so can you tell me you're okay?"

No reply.

It was the work of a few minutes to swim the pool and ascertain there were no bodies in it. Kirk climbed out on the ledge and found no one there either.

*Spock, I could dive the pool and see if I get back to you, but that still wouldn't tell us where Konti and J'ret are, if they're even together.*

*Anastia would like you to come back here.*

*I'll try.*

But the dive put him right back in the same place. He had placed three stones together as a marker, so he was sure it was the same place.

*Spock, it feels like a tomb in here. Is it my over-active imagination?*

*No, Captain, it is because the air is still, almost stagnant. Anastia wants to know your orders.*

*I still trust Koh, though this feels more like First's handiwork. Even if we each wind up in a separate tomb, I don't see any viable alternatives. Do you?*

*None that would be considered cooperation.*

*Does Young have any input?*

*He agrees with you, except for the trusting part. But he has volunteered to go next, and Anastia is letting him. Since we are about to be separated, do you have any final instructions for Anastia?*

*Yes, if possible, keep moving. If there's any choice, take the higher ground. I'm sorry I didn't think to tell Young that.*

*Young knows me quite well, and he has much in common with you, Jim.*

*The same could be said of Konti, and even J'ret knows I won't give up.*

*Anastia is insisting she will go last, so I am diving now.*

Kirk felt Spock dive, the water even colder on his skin. Further, he knew when transport occurred, because the crutch and splints did not come through. Spock broke the surface and swam his pool, as Kirk had done, looking for bodies. Finding none, he pulled himself onto the ledge at the pool's edge.

Kirk's leg exploded with new agony as Spock drew his broken leg out of the water. At the same time, Kirk felt something brush against his leg. As the something took the form of a hand, Kirk held himself very still. At the same time, Spock was discovering that he was not alone. Kirk put the dual inputs together and reached the obvious conclusion.

"Spock! You're here!"

*It would appear so, yes.*

*Welcome to my tomb. It's nice to have company, however unexpected. Can we do anything for that leg?*

*Unlikely that we will find materials in this environment with which to bind the leg. I regret the pain hinders you.*

*I keep telling myself to compartmentalize. Sometimes it works.*

*But mostly you just force yourself to walk on a broken leg.*

*If you try that, though, the leg won't hold your weight.*

*I may be forced to crawl.*

*If the way out of here is where I think it is, we'll both be crawling.*

xxxx

Koh was again agitated because he was locked out of the program. This time the Romulan team was in the same fix as Kirk's team, and he could do nothing for any of them. And Torbet's attitude wasn't helping.

"You can't fix it?! Are you sure?"

"Nothing's responding. I've tried repeatedly."

Chuck interposed, "What did Spock say the last time?"

"That it wasn't a malfunction. Somebody else is messing with the program."

"I want to know who!" Torbet fumed. "My people are helpless, and they don't even know it!"

Chuck tried again. "Spock wasn't worried. All that's happened is the teams have been separated into groups of two."

"So far! But remember what he did the last time. If my people die, I'm holding the Federation responsible!"

Chuck ignored the threat. "Might be interesting to watch what they do. A good team will work toward the same goal even if they're separated."

xxxx

J'ret saw Young surface in the pool and swim to the edge. He helped him out of the pool, but had no idea how to talk to him. But he saw no one else emerge from the pool, so he sat and studied Young in silence. What would Kirk have him do?

Young was used to getting messages only from Spock, so he waited patiently. But several minutes went by and Spock did not appear. Young finally spoke.

"You have to be J'ret, Konti, or Kirk. I'm guessing you're J'ret, since either of the other two would have been spelling words by now. If you are J'ret, squeeze my arm."

Yes.

"Is anyone else here? Two squeezes means no."

No.

"Kirk thinks the pool is a transporter. Have you tried to get back?"

Yes.

"Kirk tried too and couldn't. Spock told us. Looks like we're being split up. No instructions, but I'll bet we're not supposed to just sit here. Do you see any way out?"

Yes.

"Let's go then. You lead."

xxxx

Anastia surfaced and looked around. Konti sat at the edge of the pool, his feet dangling, his body slumped in depression.

"Hey, Konti! It's me, Anastia!"

He looked up in surprise, and she swam over and pulled herself out of the pool.

"How did you get here? I dived over and over again, trying to get back."

"Apparently, once through, you can't get back. It seems they're splitting us up. Kirk thought we would each be alone. I wonder whose idea it was to put the two of us together."

"Kirk is alone then?"

"Unless Spock is with him, yes. But his orders are to keep moving and take the higher ground. So is there any way out of here?"

"Not that I can see."

"What's that dark spot up there? See it? Give me a hand."

Anastia climbed on Konti's shoulders and discovered that the dark area was the entrance to another tunnel. It was the work of a few minutes to get them both up there. The tunnel proved to be easy going from there on, so they began talking.

Anastia wished to discuss Kirk. "This whole contest thing has me confused. What do you think Kirk's purpose is?"

"He told you his purpose. Don't you believe him?" Konti asked.

"Do you?"

"Yes, I do. Kirk's a strange man, but that was truth as he sees it."

"But it doesn't make any sense." She paused. "Tell me about him. How long was he a prisoner of yours?"

"Seven months."

"Did you see much of him? What's he like when he's not running things?"

Konti chuckled. "You're right, he's a natural leader. He does it without thinking. But he can turn it off if he works at it. I've seen him do it over and over again."

"What do you mean?" Anastia gave him a look of puzzlement.

"In addition to his other talents, Kirk is a superb actor. I've watched him for months, and I still can't tell the difference between a fake and reality. He can make you think he's absolutely terrified, and a minute later, show absolutely no reaction to the very same thing."

"Why would he want to make you think he was terrified?"

"It began as a game, but then he was protecting someone."

"Who?"

"Me," Konti admitted ruefully.

"I think you better start at the beginning."

"The beginning - that would be quite a story. How much detail do you want?"

"As much as you're willing to give me."

"The story is bizarre, but it's not classified. At the beginning, I knew nothing of this alliance affair, or the plan for Kirk. My orders were to kidnap Kirk from their border outpost, to get him alive without starting a war. How I was supposed to manage that was my problem."

Konti shared with complete transparency, not only the facts, but his perceptions and attitudes, as well. Anastia listened with few interruptions until he got to the day Koh asked Kirk how to break him.

"That's absolutely insane!" She stopped walking and stared at him.

"I thought so too, but he knew exactly what he was doing, and it worked."

"What worked?"

"Remember that equality of person I mentioned? He didn't want Koh to think of him as a victim. He refused to think of himself that way. He wanted Koh for a friend, and he didn't care how much pain it cost him."

"He thought Koh wouldn't torture him if they were friends?"

Konti shook his head, and encouraged her to keep walking. "Don't misunderstand me. Kirk never tried to protect himself from anything we did to him. No, he made a friend of Koh by helping him with his work. They played with Kirk's responses to all kinds of things. They stretched his limits over and over again. He told Koh what to do differently the next time, which drugs worked better than others, which pain stimulus was harder to take and why. No anger and no fear, at least not then, but I'm getting ahead of myself."

Konti talked for another hour, and was in the middle of the story of the 1500-lash beating, when Anastia interrupted.

"Konti, I see something. A brighter light than these rocks. We've been steadily climbing; I wonder what's up there."

Within a few minutes, they emerged into a circular room, about thirty feet in diameter.

xxxx

Rishon surfaced and discovered there was only one other in the pool with him. As they both climbed out, Gimor spoke.

"Well, Rishon, that idea didn't work. Hey! Where is everybody else?!"

Rishon looked around carefully. "I do not believe this is the same pool we just entered. Where the others have gotten to I don't know, but we have gotten somewhere. If you will observe, there is no large boulder in here."

A few minutes exploration turned up a large crack in the far wall, just barely wide enough for a body to squeeze into.

"You expect me to crawl in there?!" Gimor was aghast.

"Do you see any other alternatives?"

"But we've no idea if it goes anywhere! There's no light, and we could easily get lost or stuck! It's crazy!"

"Would you like me to go first?" Rishon's tone was mocking contempt.

Gimor stared with hostility in his eyes. Then he turned and crawled into the crack without another word.

xxxx

The other two Romulan pairs spent considerably more time at the pool debating what to do. They dived repeatedly, trying to get back to where the others were. One pair finally decided to tackle the stone steps that wound upward out of sight. The other two would have sat by the pool indefinitely.

Chuck wondered how long First would let them just sit. After about twenty minutes, he saw a heavy mist begin to rise from the pool. The reaction of the Romulans was satisfying.

"What is that smell?!"

"I don't know, but look! It's coming from the pool. Are you sure there's no way out of here?"

"We could try reaching that ledge. Maybe the stench won't reach that high."

Once on the ledge, the tunnel was obvious, and it took little further persuasion for them to leave the vicinity of the now-stinking pool. Chuck kept his amusement to himself. Both Torbet and Koh did not seem to find anything funny about the proceedings.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Konti was aware that the room's circular wall contained numerous doorways. But the eye was drawn to the floor in the room's center. Internally lit, there was writing etched into the stone floor. Anastia stooped to read the message.

"It's in Rihannsu! Why would they do that? None of you can read this - surely they know that!"

"But _you_ can read it, so what's the problem?"

Anastia looked up at him with a bleak eye. "You don't know what it says." She shook herself. "Anyway, the first thing we do is wait for the others." She sat back and withdrew into herself.

Konti paced the perimeter, trying to guess which doorway the others would emerge from. Most of them were blank darkness, as if nothing was beyond the doorway at all. He did not try to penetrate the darkness. Other than the tunnel they had come from, there was a doorway that showed a stone staircase descending as it wound out of sight. He paused by this doorway and after a moment heard footsteps. Several minutes later, J'ret came into view, followed by Young.

J'ret smiled broadly. "I am very glad to see you, sir."

He and Young collapsed to the floor and leaned against the doorway.

"Are you two all right? What happened?" Konti inquired.

"Just fatigued from climbing steps for two hours straight. What did you two have to do to get here?"

"Except for the ten-foot-high ledge by the pool, it's just been another tunnel - easy walking."

"Where's Kirk? And Spock?"

"Not here yet. I was hoping they were with you. I don't like the feel of these dark doorways. I don't know where they are, but if they're battling through one of those, God help them!"

"They can't see anyway, so what's the difference?"

"It's more than a physical darkness - I can feel it."

J'ret got up and began to circle the room. Konti spelled to Young the current situation. Abruptly J'ret called Konti to the far side of the room. Konti and Young both went. Anastia seemed not to notice.

"Konti, see this."

He pointed at a diagonal crevasse between two of the dark doorways. Perhaps six feet long, it was maybe 18" at its widest. It did not look artificially created. Konti reached a hand in and felt the rough surface.

"You think they're crawling through this?" Konti was incredulous.

"Yes, sir. I heard them."

Konti put his head in the crack, and shuddered. J'ret seemed sure, but he himself heard nothing. He withdrew, shaking his head. Still, it was better than the demons beyond the dark doorways. Suddenly, Young spoke.

"They're in trouble. J'ret, follow me in and grab my ankles. Konti, you grab his, and be ready to pull us all out."

Young disappeared into the crack, followed by J'ret. In moments, Konti found himself in the crack also, from head to hips. He heard the scraping of bodies against the rocks, but he could see nothing, not even J'ret's feet. Suddenly he felt J'ret pulling him farther in. He wedged his feet into the narrow edges of the crack, stretched his body full-length, and gripped J'ret's ankles for all he was worth.

After several moments, he heard the command to pull. Aware that he was probably pulling four men, not just one, Konti prayed for strength. He pulled steadily until J'ret's feet were in his face. He paused, but there was no letup on the weight. If he moved his feet, they would all fall. He pulled again until his head was between J'ret's knees. This time, there was a slight but definite slackening of the strain.

He quickly scrambled backwards until his legs were vertical and braced against the wall. He pulled again, this time drawing J'ret all the way out of the crack. When Young's feet came into view, he stopped, and lowered J'ret to the floor. J'ret let go of Young and turned over, rolling out of the way. Konti stooped to talk to him.

J'ret smiled. "Thanks, Konti. I didn't know you could do that." This was the first indication that J'ret's cautious attitude was beginning to thaw.

Konti returned the smile. "Didn't stop you from following Young into that hole. I'm sure glad I didn't have to climb around in there for hours."

"Me too, but I bet Kirk won't even mention it. Here they come now."

Konti looked up to see first Kirk, then Spock crawl out of the crevasse, stand up, and survey the room as if they could see it.

"Thanks for the rescue. That cliff about had me stopped. The one place we really needed a chimney, and the far wall was suddenly out of reach. No accident, I'm sure." He chuckled. "Anyway, what now? Who all is here? Is everybody okay? What happens next?"

Konti stepped up and spelled the current situation, noticing the rips in Kirk's uniform and the scratches on face and hand. Konti took his hand and drew him to the center of the room, where Anastia stood awaiting him. J'ret led Young, who offered a shoulder for Spock to lean on. When they were all gathered, Anastia spoke.

"The only reason I can fathom for placing this message in Rihannsu is to highlight the fact that I am your enemy."

"No, I don't think so," Kirk replied. "It's to find out how much I trust you. If I question the truth of what you say, then I don't really trust you. If I act on it, even though I have no way to verify the truth of your words, then you have evidence that I trust you."

"But Kirk, you don't know what it says. Believe me, trust is not the issue."

"Anastia, please tell me what the message says."

His tone was quiet encouragement. He didn't say, 'don't be afraid; trust me', but Konti could hear it in his voice anyway. He wondered if Anastia could. She looked at Kirk, then Konti, then the others. Finally she drew herself erect.

"I will tell you, and you will all hate me. It does not matter. Enemies should hate one another. Konti, please spell every word as I read the message."

She turned and dropped to her knees, staring at the message in the floor. She spoke slowly, in a voice devoid of emotion.

"Five dark doorways,  
>Face great fear,<br>Labeled, in order,  
>Bring that which she needs."<p>

She fell silent, and no one else spoke. Konti finished spelling to Kirk.

"Anastia, what do you think the message means? What about it would make me hate you?" Kirk asked.

"The doorways are here. I have not examined them, but there must be a way to tell which is for whom. Likewise, I do not know how to determine the order in which they must be faced, but this is clear: that each of you must go through the door designed for you, face something you greatly fear, and bring something back. I do not know what; I am not aware of needing anything."

"I'm with you so far, but I don't see any cause for hate. What am I missing?"

"You would face your greatest fear in order to bring me something, and not hate me for making you do that? Especially since I don't have to face a doorway?" Anastia stared at Kirk for a moment before returning her gaze to the riddle on the floor.

"Yes, I will," Kirk insisted, "and so will the rest of these guys. But the fact is, you're not the one responsible. You didn't write this program. And the one who did write it knows that he can't make me hate him no matter what he makes me do. I'm curious about what he thinks I fear. But even if he's found something, that won't stop me from facing it. And the sooner the better. So let's figure out the labels on these doors." He turned toward the nearest.

"No- Wait!" Anastia was still upset.

Kirk turned back to give her his attention.

"You casually dismiss fear as if it is nothing. But what of these others? How can you speak for them? To overcome fear in battle is good, but this contest - to subject yourself to evil at the whim of those who wrote this program - it is not an honorable thing at all."

"Where is the dishonor in this? I don't understand." Kirk spread his hands.

"If Torbet agreed to this-" She stopped, unwilling to utter her condemnation.

"You think the judges are being unfair? We are all volunteers. There were no restrictions placed on what they could ask us to do. It is not dishonorable to require us to face that which we fear, as a test of obedience, trust, and loyalty. But ask the others what they think. You needn't take my word for it." He gestured at the rest of the group.

"J'ret?" Anastia asked.

"I have no idea how the writers of this program could possibly know what I fear, but if they do, I _will_ face it. And it will not win. This much has Jim taught me."

"Young?"

"Fear has never been a big issue in my life. I suppose there probably are some things that I fear, but I certainly don't consider it unfair for the judges to do this."

"Spock?"

"Fear is an emotion. Emotions do not rule me. There is no dishonor in requiring me to prove it."

"Konti?"

"My opinion of fear is no different from theirs, though I would like to warn Kirk of the evil I sense in those doorways. And Anastia, I understand why you don't like this. Kirk wouldn't like it either, if he were in your place."

"How do you know?" she asked.

"Remember that 450-lash beating I told you about? I listened to him describe what he felt about that for the eight hours it took him to accomplish it. He will cheerfully face anything himself, but to watch others suffer what he doesn't have to is very difficult for him. But trust me on this. None of us will hate you."

Anastia did not reply, but continued to stare at Kirk. If even half the things were true that Konti had said about him, Kirk must be an incredible man. She tried to look past the Federation uniform and see the real person. Maybe if she could have seen the eyes, but the SDU didn't permit that. He seemed so at ease, so completely comfortable. They all did, as if these bizarre circumstances were perfectly normal.

Konti took the opportunity to spell to Kirk.

E-V-I-L B-E-Y-O-N-D D-O-O-R-S S-E-N-S-E I-T D-O-N-T Y-O-U-?

"No, I don't. But that doesn't mean you're wrong. Does this evil have any form or characteristic?"

No.

"Just a vague unease, or nameless dread?"

Yes.

"Definitely sounds demonic. Makes sense, since fear is one of the devil's favorite tools. The first thing you need to remember about battling demons is that they have no power over you. You're the righteousness of God in Christ Jesus. Remember who you are and command them to leave. When you speak with the authority that you know you have, they must obey you."

xxxx

Gimor and Rishon reached the unclimbable cliff. They could see light at the top, for the first time in hours.

"We have to get up there. That light has to be coming from someplace. Besides, there's nowhere else to go, except back the way we came." Rishon tried to keep his tone reasonable.

"You try it then. I've tried twice, and all I've gotten out of it is a twisted ankle."

"I agree; it's not climbable, but what if you stood on my shoulders?"

Gimor stared at Rishon. "Even if that got me high enough to reach the ledge, how would _you_ get out?"

"You would have to go on without me."

After a tense moment of indecision, Gimor nodded his head curtly, and mounted Rishon's shoulders. Gimor did not like Rishon; still less did he like being in his debt. But if this worked, it would at least get one of them out of there. And Rishon had the right to sacrifice himself. From Rishon's shoulders, he was still a good three feet short of the top.

"Step into my hands," Rishon urged. "I'll throw you up."

So Gimor did, and managed to grab the lip of the cliff with his fingers. Slowly he drew himself up, then scrambled onwards toward the light.

xxxx

Konti and Anastia studied the doorways for some clue to identify them with. All they discovered was some strange code etched into the arch above each. Konti returned to Kirk and spelled.

C-O-D-E-? I-V V-I V I-I I-X

"I's and V's? Do it again."

Konti did.

"I got it. It's an old form of writing numbers from Terran history. And that door is mine. Can you give me the others?"

I-V I-I-I V-I-I I V-I-I-I

"43718. J'ret, is that you?"

"Yes, it is. But how-"

"J'ret, don't go through there until we find out what order to do this. Who's next?"

The next one proved to be Spock's ID from First's galaxy. That left Konti and Young, neither of whom had such ID's.

M-D-C-C-I

"1701. That's the call number of the _Enterprise_. I'm guessing this door is Young's, but let's have the last one."

C-C-L-X-X-X

"280. Konti, that's yours for sure. Okay, look around for any clues on the order. It could be something real obvious, or it might be very subtle. Might be something you see; might even be something you hear, or feel."

Those who could see looked at the doorways in silence. Suddenly an arrow of light extended from the lit center circle to one of the doorways. It was Spock's. Without a word, J'ret led him to the doorway. He paused a moment, let go of J'ret, and hopped across the threshold. Instantly he was swallowed up by the darkness.

Anastia gasped, "He's gone!"

"No," J'ret replied, "I can still hear him."

Kirk held himself very still, and began giving a running commentary on what Spock found.

"Hopping on the good leg. Floor smooth, not stone or dirt. Almost as if I stepped out of the program. Fascinating - this cannot be - but it is. Voices that Jim cannot hear - neither physical nor mental. Jim, these voices are trying to convince me that you have betrayed and abandoned me. They are ignorant."

Kirk continued to give a verbatim account of everything Spock said to him, as well as some things he didn't say, but Kirk sensed.

"Smell of desert home, hot wind. Now the voices are saying that Sarek has betrayed me, that all of Vulcan has abandoned me. Demons are very self-centered.

"Just encountered a wall. Turned right. Encountering resistance - not a force field exactly, but something does not want me to proceed. Voices have become whispers, attempting to weave a web to entangle me.

"A table - on the table a cube - heavy for its size - guessing this is the object to be brought back to you. Fascinating - when I put the object in my pocket, the environment suddenly changed. Table's gone, wall gone, floor gone. All that exists is a mighty, roaring wind. Can't stand, can't breathe. Crawling - no sense of direction, but anywhere is better than here.

"Voices telling me to drop the cube and the wind will cease. Such tactics are very unoriginal."

Suddenly Kirk fell to the floor, gasping for breath. He began crawling towards Spock's doorway. Anastia was alarmed.

"No! J'ret, Konti, don't let him go through that doorway! If he does, we'll lose them both! Please- you've got to believe me! Spock's calling to him; he doesn't even know where he is! You've got to stop him!"

J'ret stood uncertain in front of Spock's doorway. Kirk had almost reached him. Konti dove for Kirk, picked him up, and threw him back to the center of the room. Kirk landed in a heap, silent and motionless. Konti reached him and turned him onto his back, suddenly remembering about the broken arm. But Kirk was not unconscious.

"Konti, do it again." Kirk's voice was a hoarse whisper. "And keep doing it."

Not understanding why, Konti nevertheless trusted Kirk. So he picked him up and threw him down repeatedly, while Kirk clung to consciousness by a slim thread. J'ret's attention was riveted on Konti and Kirk, until Spock bumped into his leg as he fell across the threshhold.

"Spock! You're back!"

Konti turned towards the sound, with Kirk held aloft.

"Thank you, Konti. You may put him down now. We are grateful for your assistance."

Without a word, Konti carefully put Kirk down on his back. He sat down next to him, and waited for Kirk to recover enough to explain. Surprisingly, it only took a moment or two. Kirk started talking without waiting to be asked.

"When he got caught in the wind, I knew Spock needed a way to find the right direction. I was trying to get close enough to the doorway that he could use me to sense the right direction. When you threw me the first time, we discovered that the lightning burst of agony in my arm was the beacon Spock needed. So thanks, Konti."

J'ret helped Spock hobble to Anastia and give her the cube he had found. She stood and held out her hand to receive it.

"Thank you."

She looked down at it, but saw nothing remarkable about the cube. It felt like glass, but was gray opaque in color, and featureless. The price that had been paid to obtain it made it very valuable, but she had no idea what to do with it. She closed her hand over it, and drew it close to her. Turning to stare at the message in the floor, she saw, for just an instant, something different.

The circle around the message had become a five-pointed star. She had the fleeting impression that she was to place the cube at the point where the light had led to Spock's doorway. But the star was gone, the circle unbroken, and she did not remember where Spock's cube should go.

Suddenly another light shot out from the circle. Anastia put her foot on the spot from which the light came, vowing she would leave it there until the next cube was brought. Meanwhile she held Spock's cube clutched in her left hand.

This light went to Young's doorway. J'ret led him to it, he stepped through, and was gone. This time they had no running commentary, so they simply waited. Spock carefully lowered himself to the floor. Anastia broke the silence.

"Kirk told you to throw him around?! I thought- well, never mind what I thought."

Konti sat down nearby. "You thought I was seizing an opportunity to vent my frustration. You think Klingons have no self-control. And you think Kirk is an enemy."

Anastia did not reply, but looked over at Kirk and Spock, both lying on the floor resting. Yes, they were enemies, but they didn't act like enemies. To say she was confused was an understatement. Konti continued.

"I don't have nearly the control he does, but I've got enough for this situation. You don't need to worry about me losing my temper."

Kirk sat up. "Are you all okay? Is there anything we need to talk about? Young could be gone a lot longer than Spock was."

Anastia spoke up. "What was there in Spock's experience that he feared? He didn't sound afraid."

Konti spelled and Spock replied.

"Difficult to explain. I feared for the life of Captain Kirk. Our mental link is such that if I died, he would die, and I could not prevent it."

"Are you saying you might have _died_ out there? You think the judges are trying to _kill_ us?" Anastia was seriously alarmed.

"No, I do not. But when all sensory input supports the conclusion that death is imminent, the sensation of fear is a natural result."

"So Kirk thought you were dying?"

"No. He cannot separate strong sensory input. What I feel, he feels."

"He thought _he_ was dying, then."

"He did not think about it. He responded to the situation with immediate action to solve the problem."

The next moment, Young appeared in his doorway, apparently none the worse for wear. J'ret helped him give his cube to Anastia, and then sit down next to Spock. Just as Anastia was going to place the cube, she remembered they had to be placed in order. So she couldn't place any of them until she knew where Spock's should go. The next door lit up, and she managed to fix her eye on the spot, but she couldn't reach it. She stood helplessly clutching Spock's cube in her left hand and Young's in her right. The next door was J'ret's. Without a word, he stepped through and was gone. Anastia spoke without looking up.

"Konti, I have a problem."

She explained her dilemma. Konti spelled to Kirk, who stated the obvious solution. "Give Young's cube back, and have him stand on the spot where it goes. Then Anastia stands on J'ret's spot til he gets back, and so on til we have them all."

Young shared briefly of his experience.

"I'm not sure it had a physical element at all. Lots of mental images, but I'm not sure my body actually went anywhere. At the end, I took just two steps, and I was back here. At least, that's the way it seemed. As to the mental images, I can't possibly describe it all. Confusing, overwhelming, kaleidoscopic, breath-taking. As if years of my life were condensed into minutes, yet with all the precise detail still there. How could this program do that to my mind?"

"Spock, any opinions?"

"I am unsure what technique was used. There are several possibilities."

Kirk laughed. "By which he means either, he has no idea, or he's pretty sure he knows, but doesn't want to say. Doesn't really matter anyway. Anastia probably wants to know what you feared."

"I don't mind telling you, but putting words to it is difficult. The closest I can come, I guess, is that somehow my life is insignificant. That in spite of all I've struggled to achieve, in the larger scheme of things, it means nothing. A fear that it has all been a waste, useless striving to make something of my life, to make a real difference in the universe."

"I understand, Young. I have asked myself the same question. I'm sure we all have." Kirk was encouraging. "Do you have an answer that satisfies?"

"For years, all I could do was continue the struggle, just hoping it was not, in fact, useless. Within the past year, however, I've acquired an assurance that I didn't have before. The life of each of us is significant, no matter how it seems at times. And it's not necessarily the grandiose things we've managed to achieve. My significance is in knowing and being known by the One Who created me."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Rishon sat with his back against the rock, trying to be reconciled to the probability that he would be buried in this crack for hours, if not days. Why had he helped Gimor get out, knowing they would abandon him and be glad to be rid of him? Because it's what Kirk would have done. The realization came as a shock. Why would he want to copy Kirk?! Was it because this was Kirk's game and the only way to win was to play it his way? But being buried alive in this rock tomb was hardly his picture of winning.

And how did he know what Kirk would do? He thought back on everything he had seen of Kirk since he showed up at this conference. His initial shock at the level of pain for which there was no outward reaction. And that second encounter, Kirk had been absolutely certain of his defenses. And he'd been right, though how he could be in such unity with Spock was beyond his comprehension. No human should be able to tolerate such. He not only tolerated it, he understood the fight for what it was, and freely let Spock play with his life in order to win.

But there were other things about Kirk's character equally surprising. In the middle of all that agony, he had taken the opportunity presented to warn them of the Klingons' treachery. He still wasn't sure what Kirk had done to him later, but he couldn't deny the fact that his pain had suddenly disappeared. And then he'd encountered Kirk wearing the SDU. He'd immediately and freely shared what he knew, volunteering to help the opposing team. That was not the way to win.

Kirk was an enigma. So why was he drawn to him? Why did he want to emulate him? He was crazy, yet compelling. Rishon wanted to explore Kirk's mind, and it wasn't just the Federation secrets. And he had the perverse notion that were it not for the need to protect those secrets, Kirk would have freely welcomed his intrusion. In the middle of his pondering, Rishon suddenly heard Gimor call him.

"Rishon, are you there?"

He stood up and replied calmly, "Of course; how could I be elsewhere?"

They had collected everyone's belt and made a rope. Within minutes, Rishon joined them in the circular room.

"Thank you for the rescue. To what do I owe your generosity?"

Rishon was not being deliberately condescending, but it came out that way anyway. Gimor scowled; the others just looked away in disgust.

"There's a message in the floor there. We can't read it. Can you?"

Rishon could. It was in Standard, much the same as Anastia had read to Kirk, except the last line inserted Rishon's name, so there would be no mistake. The doorways were identified by name and number, both of which could be read on the insignia of each one's uniform.

Rishon debated with himself long and hard before divulging what the message said, and his interpretation of what it meant. Their response was predictable: disbelieving and uncooperative. He sat on the floor in contempt.

"I told you what it says. What you do about it is up to you. I don't care." And he lapsed into silence.

They argued, they paced, they argued some more. There were two opposing opinions. One was that Rishon was making the whole thing up. But they couldn't deny that their names were etched in stone over the doorways. The other opinion was that if they refused to do this, they would certainly lose the contest. Several minutes were spent discussing the likelihood that Kirk's team had acquiesced to this.

Rishon listened to all this argument and wondered what Kirk would do. How would he respond to distrust and ridicule? He, Rishon, had mocked Kirk. How had he responded? He had ignored it, and reached out in friendship disregarding the probable response. Could he do that here? Did he want to?

Suddenly Gimor sat down in front of Rishon, looked him in the eye, and spoke earnestly. "Tell me the truth, Rishon. Is that really what it says?"

Rishon tried to keep all emotion out of his response. "Yes, Gimor, it is."

Gimor searched Rishon's face for deceit.

"Gimor, do you want to win this contest?"

"What kind of a question is that?" Gimor was confused, as much as insulted.

"This is Kirk's game. If you want to win, do what Kirk would do."

"And what would Kirk do?"

"Would you believe me if I told you?"

"Try me."

Rishon hadn't really intended to get into this, but Gimor had drawn it out of him. How much should he say? What would Gimor believe? Did it matter whether Gimor accepted him?

"I watched Kirk for hours in that conference room. I've twice been inside his mind. There is much about Kirk that I do not understand. But two things I do know. He thrives on being dared to do the impossible. Given his reputation, that's not surprising. But the second thing I found quite a surprise. He values relationship more than doing the impossible.

"If he were here in this room, I think he would be far more concerned about the lack of unity among us, than about what's on the other side of those doorways. Which is not to say he wouldn't tackle the doorways. I think he would. But he would battle the distrust among us with any means available."

"How?"

Rishon was surprised that Gimor appeared to be genuinely interested in what he had to say. Maybe Kirk's ideas weren't as crazy as he thought.

"Kirk would ignore our mockery, contempt, and ridicule of him. He would treat us as friends and act as if we were completely trustworthy. And he would continue to model that behavior until we changed our treatment of him and of each other."

"You want me to trust you."

"That is what Kirk would do. How badly do you want to win?"

Rishon could not keep the challenge out of his voice. Gimor stared in silence for a long moment.

"All right, Rishon, we will do this. But if anyone dies because of your treachery, I will kill you; I promise it!"

Rishon nodded curtly in acknowledgment of the threat.

xxxx

J'ret returned, staggering and gasping for breath, his eyes wide with fright. He stared at them, then looked down at himself, as if unsure he was really there, his body uninjured.

"J'ret, are you all right?" Konti asked.

"Fire! Walk... through fire. Yet not... consumed." He took a deep breath. "How can this be?!"

"Spock probably has a technical explanation, but what matters is you survived it. Do you have a cube for Anastia?"

"Yes, but- Konti, it's bad. I thought I knew how to face fear, but not this kind. I'm still shaking."

"If I'm next, talk to Kirk while I'm gone."

"How?"

"Anastia can spell for you. It's just slower."

"Konti, believe me, you don't want to do this."

"J'ret, I'll be okay, and so will you. Now give Anastia your cube so we can find out who's next."

It was Konti's doorway that lit up, so he quickly spelled to Kirk that J'ret was in need of damage control. Then he was gone.

Kirk began. "So J'ret, can you talk to me? Anastia, can you spell what he says?"

Knowing that Anastia could not leave her post, Kirk felt his way to her by touch.

"I was facing a wall of fire. I heard no voices, like Spock did, but I knew I had to walk through the fire. And when I did, it would consume me. Have you ever been certain you were about to die in horrible agony, and yet you had a choice? I could have refused, could have walked away from it."

J'ret paused to let Anastia catch up.

"But you didn't," Kirk guessed.

"No. I've never been this afraid of anything in my life. I was absolutely terrified. I did not know that I could move. My mind was numb, hardly aware that I had made a decision. The next thing I remember clearly is that I was on the other side of the fire wall. I could feel the heat of it on my back.

"The cube was before me on a small table. I picked it up, half expecting everything to change, like it did for Spock. But the fire remained. I turned and looked at my only way back here. Again, I could have refused. My body wanted to. It remembered the awful pain. My mind was still numb with shock. To face it a second time was beyond me. I cried out to Jesus and-"

"You what?!" Anastia interrupted. She stopped spelling and just stared at J'ret.

"I asked Jesus to help me, and He did. The next thing I knew, I was back here."

"Jesus! Isn't that Kirk's God? What do you know about a human God?"

"Jesus is God, yes. The one and only real God. And He's not just for humans; he's for everybody. He created the whole thing, and He wants to know each of us personally."

"Wait a minute! You're telling me you believe in the same God Kirk does?"

"Yes."

"Anastia," Kirk interrupted, "You're upset about something. What's wrong?"

She stared at Kirk long and hard, unable to formulate a reply.

xxxx

Chuck wondered if Kirk regretted the restrictions of the SDU. Meaningful conversation was pretty difficult. He glanced over at Koh, who paced in frustration, and at Torbet, who waited in grim, tense silence. Rishon's team was getting through it, but without any grace. Chuck wished he could see what actually occurred beyond those doorways, but they were given no pictures of anything but the circular rooms. It was almost as if the things being reported didn't really exist. And maybe it was true, that they were real only in the mind of the one who saw them.

xxxx

Konti stepped through his doorway, and Anastia looked up at him. The eyes looked haunted, as if he had seen things he'd rather not remember, but otherwise, he looked normal enough. Anastia spelled to Kirk that Konti was back.

"My turn, then. Konti, show me where the door is. This shouldn't take very long."

Kirk took one step through the doorway and stopped. He saw nothing; he heard nothing.

"I fear nothing."

Those within the room heard his words.

Suddenly the nothingness overwhelmed him, and he laughed at the literalness of this program.

"I do not fear."

Those within heard both the laugh and the words. A few moments later, Kirk was back, with cube in hand. Anastia made quick work of placing all the cubes in order where they belonged. The black box appeared in their midst, which surprised no one. Once in it, Kirk again took charge of the discussion.

"Good work, everybody. Is there anything about that we need to debrief? J'ret, are you okay?"

"Yes, I think so. What were you laughing at?"

Kirk told them. Predictably, they thought he was nuts. He didn't try to explain how he could laugh in the face of overwhelming nothingness. Instead, he asked Konti to share.

"I was walking down an endless corridor. The farther I walked, the more dread I felt. At first, the evil was beyond me, later it was all around me. I saw nothing except faces of demons, laughing at me, mocking me. And it was worse on the way back. The sense of evil was like a physical force, laughing and screaming at me, demanding I obey it. As I walked through one hideous face, it dissolved, only to be replaced by another, more horrible than the last. I don't think I've ever had a worse nightmare."

"Anastia," Kirk asked, "How are you doing? Your job was the hardest. Want to talk about it?"

"Why do you say mine was hard? I didn't have to face any fears."

"Oh, but you did. You feared our response to that message. You did not want us to hate you. You tell yourself that it doesn't matter, because you want to protect yourself from being hurt. But you are glad that we don't hate you, even if you don't understand why we don't."

Anastia did not reply.

xxxx

Chuck watched Rishon's team finally complete the task and clamber into the black box. No one talked about what they'd seen and felt. In fact, the silence in their box was extended. Disturbed by their experiences, they didn't even argue amongst themselves.

Suddenly Koh exclaimed that he had control of the holodeck restored.

"Are you sure?" Torbet challenged.

"Yes, I'm sure. How much time do we have left? And what do you want to do with it? It seems to me Kirk's team is winning, hands down."

"What about the interference? Aren't you worried about that?" Torbet wasn't exactly frantic, but nowhere near the calm he would have preferred to exhibit.

"If you want to concede the contest right now, I'll shut the thing down. If we get them off the holodeck before any interference can take over, then we're set. But what are you going to tell Kirk? After all, no one died. He and Spock are the only ones that are injured, and they don't seem to care. Do you want Kirk to laugh at you?"

Torbet did not reply. Koh turned to Chuck.

"Any objections to leaving them in it?"

"None whatever. Spock knows about the interference. That means Kirk does too. If he objected, he'd be telling you about it."

"By my calculations, we've some thirty hours left. What shall we do with it?" Koh asked.

xxxx

Kirk's team found themselves in a room with several doors, all closed. In the center of the room was a table. Inlaid in the table was a detailed map of an extensive complex, with corridors, bridges, tunnels, and stairs all clearly marked. There were six blinking red lights pinpointing specific locations. Konti spelled the situation for Kirk.

"No instructions? Just the blinking lights. Seems logical that we have to go to those locations. But if there's six of them, maybe we each get one. Any opinions?"

"It'd be pretty difficult to explain this map in words spelled on the chest," Anastia mused.

"I'm not entirely sure I can remember how to get to even one of these places," J'ret admitted. "This is one complex map."

Konti spelled the problems to Kirk.

"If one of you would be eyes for Spock by letting him into your mind, then I could get the visual picture from him."

Konti volunteered. Spock linked to both Konti and Young, so that they all had the visual image. And they discussed a strategy for tackling the six locations. Kirk was able to see the map so well that he could actually place his finger on the blinking lights. He had to adjust his perspective and remind himself that he was seeing what Konti saw, but he managed well enough to assign a light to each of them.

Three hours went by before they were all back from the six locations. They had encountered no obstacles other than the complexity of the map. At each location, they found seemingly random objects which they brought back with them. Young was the one who deciphered the purpose of the various metal bars, poles, and strips of cloth. He declared they could be used to resplint Spock's leg, and make a better set of crutches than the one he'd lost.

Back in the black box, Kirk was significantly more comfortable with Spock's leg splinted.

"Thank you all, especially Young. Spock's leg feels much better. Special thank you to the judges for such consideration. Anybody have questions?" Kirk asked.

Anastia did. "I don't understand that mind-link business you did at the map. Especially, Konti, why did you volunteer for that? We could've figured out a way without it, and letting them into your mind is risky business, physically and emotionally, not to mention politically."

Konti spelled the question, and then tried to answer it.

"Yes, we probably could have managed, but this was much faster. Effective teamwork sometimes requires risk."

"And did you lose?" Anastia wanted to know. "Did they take your secrets? You don't seem damaged. I've seen some of the results of Rishon's work. It's not pretty."

"They took no secrets," Konti assured her. "I am not damaged. Did you hear of the fight between Spock and Rishon? Ask Spock what he thinks of Rishon's mental skills."

Konti spelled the question.

"Rishon has neither the skill nor the moral code of a trained Vulcan. Not surprising to find damage in those he has encountered," Spock replied.

"He doesn't appear to have damaged Kirk."

"No, he did not."

Anastia's curiosity was not satisfied.

"So, Konti, what was it like? If you don't mind telling?"

"I wasn't really focused on that, but on the map and the problem in front of us. But as I recall, it seemed perfectly natural. I expected it to feel odd, but it didn't. Think of it as a conversation in your head. That's the best description I can manage."

The box disappeared, and they were in a similar room as the last. This time the map was on the wall, different but equally complex. This time there were only three blinking lights. After having the situation spelled to him, Kirk gave orders quickly.

"We'll take this in pairs: one sighted with each non-sighted. Pick your targets and your partners. Anastia, you're first."

She picked Young; J'ret picked Kirk, leaving Konti with Spock. Kirk held out his hand for J'ret to lead him. The other two teams could communicate by spelling words if necessary. J'ret could not. As soon as the door closed behind them, Kirk began talking.

"J'ret, I want you to know- no, don't stop walking. I'm just going to talk as we go. If you need me to shut up, squeeze my hand three times. Remember once means yes, twice means no. Okay?" Yes.

Kirk kept up a running conversation as they negotiated corridors, stairs, ladders, and tunnels. He suspected J'ret was feeling rather isolated and insecure. He praised him, expressing approval of his actions, as well as his patience and long-suffering. He asked numerous yes/no questions, drawing out of J'ret his attitudes and feelings. He shared tidbits of wisdom and anecdotes from his own life. He knew it didn't matter so much what he talked about, so long as he talked. By the time they returned, J'ret was encouraged, confident, and peaceful.

Each team brought back a small cube that was placed under each light. When all cubes were placed, the black box appeared. Debriefing was short. Nobody had problems to report. Konti wondered how long these easy episodes would continue. Anastia cautioned him not to ask for trouble. Kirk wondered the same thing, but didn't voice it. He also wondered how Rishon's team was doing.

xxxx

Chuck's impression was that the Romulan team was finally getting their act together. The one called Gimor was taking a strong leadership role. Rishon was deferring to him. The whole team seemed more able to handle this kind of task than many of the rest. They even finished that last one ahead of Kirk's team. Torbet was preening. Koh couldn't resist needling.

"Finally giving Kirk some competition, I see. Shall we run the same one again? See if they pick up speed?"

"Shall we tell them to go faster?" Torbet asked.

"Be more interesting to see if they guess," Chuck volunteered.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Kirk's team spilled out of the box and saw the same map on the wall.

"You're sure it's exactly the same map, and all three lights are in exactly the same places?" Yes.

"Okay. Same teams, same targets. Do it on a dead run. Konti, carry Spock. Any questions? Go!"

Kirk laughed with delight as J'ret pulled him along at a reckless pace. What had taken over an hour the first time was now completed in just ten minutes. Konti and Spock were back first, having had the shortest path. Anastia and Young took only a few minutes longer than Kirk's team had taken, even though they had the longest route.

Back in the black box, Kirk was still chuckling.

"That was fun! Anybody want to share what it was like for you?"

J'ret got bold. "J'im didn't stop laughing the whole trip. I remember the day he was training our team, and made us all run down a corridor blind. He couldn't see any more than the rest of us, but he wanted to make it fun. None of us laughed that day, but this reminded me of that. He can laugh at anything."

Konti was next. "I doubt that Spock was comfortable, but at least he wasn't complaining. And he doesn't weigh as much as Kirk."

Anastia opened up a little. "Young didn't laugh. In fact he didn't say a word. But he's like a dancer on his feet. Kept a hand on my shoulder, just a light touch to keep pace with me. Knew exactly where we were going. I got the impression he could have done the whole thing without me."

Konti spelled the question, and Spock relayed it to Young.

"I doubt I could have done it alone. Anastia telegraphed what was coming pretty well. She's easy to work with."

"I telegraphed it? You don't mean mentally; I can't do that." Anastia sounded as if she was just as glad not to have such an ability.

"No, I mean physically. Speeding up, slowing down, turns, even the ladders. It was all easy to read in your body."

The next episode was another map. This one had two lighted paths, one red, one blue.

"Anastia, pick one of the paths," Kirk ordered.

"I'll take blue."

"And which two of us do you want to take with you?"

"I'll take you and Spock if I have a choice."

"I gave you the choice. Konti, you get J'ret and Young. Let's push the pace on this one. Not a dead run, since it's new territory. But maybe a slow jog. Any questions?"

"Spock can't jog on those crutches."

"I'm going to carry him. I know he doesn't like it, but he'll live. If you've got that map memorized, let's go."

It was an interesting experience with Spock on his shoulders. Different, but similar to the experience of being Spock/Kirk, this had additional challenges. Kirk's good arm grasped Spock's broken leg. Spock's good leg tried to avoid hitting Kirk's broken arm. Spock held the crutches horizontally out in front of them. Anastia rested each crutch on a shoulder and directed their movements through the crutches.

This episode took them over three hours, even at a jog. Back in the black box, Kirk urged them to share. Surprisingly Anastia was first.

"It was weird, having the silent duo in my wake for hours. At first I thought it must hurt too much to talk. Then I thought maybe you needed to concentrate to get my signals. Finally, I decided you must be talking to each other. And that felt even stranger. Not that I should resent it. But what I really want to know is this. When it went on for hours, why didn't you question whether I had made a mistake? I questioned myself, but you seemed to have this blind faith that I knew where I was going."

"I'm sorry for not talking to you, Anastia. It didn't occur to me that you would have liked it. It should have. My mistake. Spock and I weren't talking either. Not that we couldn't have. We didn't need to. I did notice that it was going on longer than the others. Was glad we'd established a faster pace. As to blind faith in your memory of the map, I had no reason to doubt you, and no alternative anyway. Neither Spock nor I had even seen the map."

"No reason to doubt me? How about the fact that I am Rihannsu?" She spoke her identity with pride, a touch of contempt, and more than a little exasperation.

"In the present circumstances, that's irrelevant."

She had no reply to this, and conversation moved to the other team. Young had been no problem. They hadn't talked much either, except to note the lengthy time.

The next episode was different. Konti took one look at their surroundings and groaned. He spelled to Kirk two words.

G-R-I-D M-A-Z-E

"Ah. I wondered if Koh would think of this. How big are the squares?"

S-A-M-E

"Only room for one at a time. Any other instructions?"

No.

"Okay, listen carefully. This grid maze is lethal. If you step on any lighted square, you fry. Konti and I have done this a lot, with him on my shoulders telling me where to put my feet. But you can't do this without a high level of trust between you. If you try, you'll get out in the middle there and make a mistake. We can't afford any mistakes. Nobody is expendable.

"We have two challenges. Three of us can't see, and therefore must have a guide. Also, Spock has a broken leg, so has to place not only his feet, but his crutches. And carrying anybody would be difficult for him. So, everybody take a minute and think about which of us, if any, you trust enough to risk your life with. And I need honest answers from everybody."

Dead silence for several minutes.

"J'ret, you first."

"I trust you with my life, and I will accept anybody you put me with. But practically speaking, I don't know that any of you could carry me. So it's more a question of whether any of you would trust me to carry you."

"Anastia?" Kirk asked.

"I have the opposite problem from J'ret. Physically, I can't carry any of you. So the question becomes who would I trust to carry me, and can I give accurate directions? You haven't explained how these directions would be given."

"Konti and I used a whip, but we haven't got one today, so I'd suggest hand signals on the head. Use whatever works, as long as it's very precise. No room for ambiguous interpretation."

"I can probably do that, but I'm not sure that I trust any of you. I'd rather just get myself across. I know that's not what you wanted to hear, but you said to be honest."

Kirk nodded. "That's right. Thank you for your honesty. Konti, what about you?"

"Obviously, I trust you. If Spock weren't injured, maybe. I don't think anyone else could carry me."

"Young?"

"This is the first thing we've faced that I really regret wearing this SDU. Since I can't see, obviously I have to trust somebody. But the truth is, Spock is the only one I trust that much. And he can't see either."

"Well Spock, we could discuss this in private, but that would hardly be fair."

"You have two options. You can assign teams based on skill and relative size, irrespective of the expressed trust levels. Or you can attempt to cater to each one's need for security." There was a time when Spock would have sought a more tactful way to express himself, but Kirk wanted complete transparency here, so he made no effort to sugar-coat the thought.

"Spock! It's not a question of emotional security. Trust effects performance. You know that."

"Trust is a choice."

"You want me to require it," Kirk concluded more quietly.

"I do not think you should be afraid of it. However, there is a way to do what you want. I will carry Young, and Konti can give us both direction cues."

"Konti, can you do that?"

Anastia stared at Kirk as they discussed how to give separate cues to him and Spock. He appeared not at all disturbed by what Spock had said. Yet Spock had virtually accused him of cowardice. If any subordinate had said that to her, it would have been an immediate duel to the death. She could not afford to leave such a thing unchallenged. Yet Kirk, by his silence, admitted the statement was true. What had Spock said he was afraid of? Requiring her to trust. Did he fear she would forfeit? Did he want to win that bad?

Her pondering was interrupted by a call for action. Kirk put her in front, followed by himself carrying Konti. Spock carried Young, and J'ret brought up the rear. The cavalcade moved at a snail's pace. She herself could have skipped across the entire grid in minutes. But Kirk, Spock, and Young were all trusting their lives to Konti's direction. And he was being slow and deliberate.

Konti broke the silence. "I know it's slow, Anastia. Kirk's been telling me to go faster ever since we started. But I don't want to make a mistake, so try to be patient. We'll get there eventually."

"How can Kirk be telling you anything? He hasn't said a word."

"It's not words, but the message communicates itself through his whole body. He may not even know he's doing it."

Half an hour later, with no end to the grid in sight, Anastia ventured a question.

"Is Kirk still wanting to go faster?"

"I think he's realized this round may be a lot longer than what we used to do."

"So how long can you keep this up? What do we do if you can't? Or they can't?"

"I don't know, Anastia. But watch Spock for signs of fatigue. That Vulcan's got incredible stamina, but carrying Young with a broken leg's got to be exhausting. And I'm not sure if I'll sense it in Kirk. I don't really understand this mind-link thing," Konti admitted.

"Something else I don't understand," Anastia offered. "When Spock accused him of cowardice, why did Kirk let it go unchallenged? I wouldn't last very long if I let anything like that slide. And Kirk's no dummy; he had to have heard what Spock said."

Konti chuckled. "The Federation doesn't operate like we do. Duels are not tolerated; you don't advance by killing off your superior. But with these two, the difference is much deeper than that. According to my information, Spock has been offered his own command on numerous occasions. He stays with Kirk because he wants to. You can't buy loyalty like that." He paused to give the next set of directions.

"With that understanding of their relationship, I doubt that Kirk saw it as a challenge at all. Merely a public acknowledgment of something they both already knew. Which begs the question: why doesn't Kirk care that we know what he's afraid of? He is the most self-assured person I have ever met. He knows who he is and what he can do, and he doesn't need approval from anybody."

"Why is he afraid to require trust? Does he think I would forfeit?" Anastia challenged.

"No, it's not that. He wants trust that is freely given, not demanded. On the other hand, he doesn't hesitate to demand it of himself. I should tell you what happened after the third trip to the mind-sifter."

Konti talked for the better part of two hours. Sharing the stories in such a way as to get the point across without incriminating either himself or Koh to those listening in the observers' room was a challenge. And he was getting tired, and if he was tired, what must Kirk and Spock be? But he saw no way to stop. The grid seemed endless.

Suddenly he felt Kirk stumble. For a moment, he thought they were going to fall, and that would be the end. But Kirk got his feet under him, and stood still, a bit shaky.

"Sorry," Kirk apologized. "I don't suppose the end is in sight."

Konti squeezed, no.

"Let's just stand here for a minute then, while I renew my attempts to convince my brain there's nothing whatever wrong with my leg."

Anastia stepped up to spell on Kirk's chest.

H-O-W I-S S-P-O-C-K-?

"He's doing better than I am. Lot's more practice at telling his brain who's boss."

R-E-A-R-R-A-N-G-E T-E-A-M-S-? C-O-N-S-E-R-V-E S-T-R-E-N-G-T-H

"Are you volunteering, choosing to trust? Or is this Konti's idea?"

N-O-T K-O-N-T-I I C-H-O-O-S-E

"Is this blanket permission? Any way I wish to arrange it?"

Yes.

"Thank you, Anastia. This is not a small thing. I'd like to put Spock on Konti; I'll ride on J'ret; and you ride on Young. You'll have to guide him, but this will give everybody a break. And if it's not too difficult to do, we'll switch again in an hour."

Accomplishing the switch was a bit of a circus. Young moved first. He stood on Spock's shoulders, used the crutches as a guide to Konti's shoulders, climbed over Konti, and onto Anastia's shoulders. Then they used an adjoining square to change places. This left the square in front of Kirk vacant. Konti moved him into it, then jumped off his back into the square they had just left. Kirk then had to climb over Konti and Spock to get to J'ret. He managed it, though not very gracefully. Spock then climbed onto Konti, and they were ready to roll.

With this arrangement, they made much faster progress. Anastia didn't quite have Young running, but in comparison to the previous pace, it almost seemed like it. Kirk was aware that J'ret's long legs made an interesting roll to their gait. He dozed. At the one hour mark, they paused briefly to consider a change in teams. But everyone declared this was working fine, so they resumed without change.

They spent a total of six hours on that grid, by which time everyone was glad to see the black box. Konti began the debriefing.

"I felt the heavy weight of responsibility for three lives. I was very glad when we switched. Carrying Spock was easy."

"You weren't concerned that Kirk would throw you off? You can't have forgotten that he has a powerful motive for killing you?" Anastia scoffed.

"The thought never occurred to me. If Kirk ever kills me, it won't be that way. He has more honor than that."

"My apologies. You're right, of course."

J'ret interrupted. "I was glad he was willing to ride on me. Made me feel more included. And he was so relaxed, it felt like he was sleeping. Though I'm sure he wouldn't have been."

Konti spelled the question.

"Yes, I was, not sound sleeping, but dozing. Quite restful, in fact. Anybody else have comments?"

Young shared. "Riding on Spock was interesting. When I said I trusted Spock, it had not occurred to me that you would put me there. So it was with some reservation that I realized I was really trusting Konti. But as it went on for hours, I relaxed. Spock was always so solid, sure of his moves, and he never seemed weak or fatigued.

"Then we switched and I was carrying Anastia. That was a delight. The same sureness and precision, but she was interested in speed. After a few minutes, we had the signals down so well that we could make good time. I hope you all didn't have trouble keeping up."

Anastia laughed. "After those snail-paced hours, it was wonderful to be able to move. Young is really very good. It was a pleasure. And it's funny, after the decision was made, I never thought about the trust issue."

The episodes that followed were repeats of the map scenes, except with new obstacles thrown in. Sometimes the maps were slightly different, so as to require careful study. They took to relying on Anastia for this, as her memory was as good as Spock's. Other times, the map was the same, but they would encounter something different en route. Occasionally the something different was positively dangerous.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Both Kirk's team and the Romulans did well at these episodes. Since the Romulan team had finished the grid maze a good two hours before Kirk's team, Torbet was making noises about his team being the obvious winner. Koh was of the opinion that the biggest reason the Romulans were doing better was that the task was well-defined. Put them in an ambiguous soup and they would flounder. But he was wise enough not to voice this opinion.

Chuck didn't think Kirk cared who won. He had only wanted an excuse to spend some time with the Romulan. And from the conversations he'd heard, it sounded like Anastia was coming around, slowly. He wondered if he dared suggest anything to Koh.

"Perhaps building skills should be tested."

"Good idea. Thanks, Chuck."

xxxx

Spilling out onto the gym floor, they were given the first verbal instruction they'd had in hours.

"_Build shelter._" It was Koh's voice.

Konti spelled to Kirk.

"What have we got to build with?"

"Cubes and cylinders of various sizes."

"How many and how big?"

After several more questions, Kirk assigned Spock as chief engineer. The rest of them gathered materials, and put them where Spock said to. After half an hour, they had a chest-high wall with one entrance, and there was room for all six of them to sit down inside. There was no roof.

Meanwhile the Romulan team had built a secure enclosure for one person, complete with roof. Both teams had used all the materials. Koh resisted arguing with Torbet about which shelter was better. The two teams were functioning on a par. But Koh neglected to point out that Kirk's team was doing it with several significant handicaps.

The next episode required them to build a shelter in a forest of young hardwoods. They were given a length of rope and two knives. Kirk's team spent ten minutes discussing it, then went with J'ret's idea, and had the thing done in another twenty minutes. The Romulans slashed away at the forest without much thought, and took two hours to build a less satisfactory shelter. Kirk's team, meanwhile, improved their structure and built primitive weapons as well.

After a brief break in the black boxes, the teams were set down in a rocky terrain and told to find food, water, and shelter before dark fell in three hours' time. The same two knives and length of rope were their only equipment.

Kirk gave one knife to Anastia and told her to lead the way, preferably downhill, unless indications showed that what they sought was elsewhere. The second knife went to Konti in the rear, with instructions to watch for game. The rope was strung from J'ret to Young, Kirk, and Spock, as a guide, though it wasn't very helpful in negotiating the terrain. Kirk fell repeatedly, and even Spock fell twice. Young was good on his feet, and closer to J'ret. He also had no broken bones.

After an hour, they came upon a cave. They rested for a few minutes, but Kirk rejected it as their shelter for the night.

"Several reasons: there's no water, no food either. The place smells like the den of a large animal. And finally, it just feels too easy."

So they moved on. The surface underfoot turned to dirt rather than rocks, which made the going easier for Kirk. He fell less frequently, and his landings were slightly softer. An evening breeze could be felt on the face, and Kirk thought he smelled water.

Suddenly he was elsewhere. The one-third Standard gravity told him where he was. They had not taken anyone out for many hours. He wondered why now. Suddenly he felt the familiar pain of hundreds of needles in his head.

xxxx

"Hold up, Anastia!" Konti called. "Kirk's disappeared. Best we find out from Spock what's going on."

There was no panic, nor even alarm, as they gathered around Spock.

xxxx

The scene in Third's room, however, was a different matter. As usual, Torbet's was the loudest reaction.

"What do you mean, he's disappeared?! Where did he disappear to? Can't you get him back? None of my people have disappeared, I hope?"

"No," replied Koh. "It's just Kirk, but I'm locked out of the program again, so all we can do is watch, wait, and listen. I want to hear what Spock says."

xxxx

"Gentlemen, I suspect we have a problem. I will apprise you of specifics as I learn them."

That was all Spock said, but it put everybody on edge. His tone was calm, his words mild. But something in the word 'problem' denoted the seriousness of the situation.

xxxx

Kirk immediately revised his picture of where he was. First wasted little time in preliminaries.

*My apologies, Captain. I am receiving a message from your ship. Mr. Sulu demands to speak to you.*

*Can you patch it through?*

*I can let you hear what I am hearing, but I cannot broadcast your voice through this connection.*

_ *"This is Commander Sulu on the _Enterprise_. I repeat, it is imperative that I speak with Captain Kirk immediately."*_

*Tell him you've got me. Ask him what the message is.*

_ *"Mr. Sulu, I have Captain Kirk. He can hear you, but you cannot hear him. He wants me to ask you what the problem is."*_

_ *"A clandestine attack by Klingons has resulted in the abduction of Dr. McCoy, Commander Uhura, and the injured Romulan. Three other injured, one dead. Looks like the intent was to take hostages, though why they went to Sickbay and not the Bridge, I don't know. I'm sorry, sir. Shields were down in a gesture of goodwill, since the contest began. We weren't expecting treachery."*_

*Any word from the Klingon ships?*

First relayed the question.

*_"Negative, sir. Not yet anyway."*_

*Any activity on the planet?*

Instead of relaying the question, First answered it.

*Yes, but it's nowhere near that installation you were in.*

*Relay it to Sulu, and let me know if we hear from the Klingons. Meanwhile, send me back to the holodeck so I can forfeit this contest.*

*One moment, Captain. I'm getting a signal from the lead Klingon ship, demanding to speak to Konti.*

xxxx

Spock was explaining in as vague terms as he thought would be acceptable.

"There has been an incident aboard the _Enterprise_. I strongly suspect Captain Kirk will forfeit this contest in favor of dealing with this matter. I regret we will be unable to complete the contest. Its results would have been a matter of scientific curiosity."

Suddenly Konti too disappeared.

xxxx

The Klingons behind Chuck responded with considerable alarm.

"It's a trick! Kirk is trying to kill Konti in secret!"

J'oso's men took a step forward, anticipating trouble. Chuck turned a steely gaze on the Klingon faction. He filled his voice with contempt.

"You must not have a very high opinion of Konti as a warrior if you think Kirk can best him with a broken arm and wearing an SDU."

After a bit of bluster, they backed down, and Chuck turned away.

"Thank you," Koh muttered.

"Any time," Chuck replied with a grim smile.

xxxx

Konti eyes widened in surprise and alarm at the sight of the snake monster attacking Kirk. But Kirk was just standing there.

"What are you doing to him?" He addressed the monster.

Kirk spoke. "Relax, Konti; I'm fine. This gentleman, whom you've met, is a touch telepath. However, at the moment, that's unimportant. Your ship is calling. If you'll step over to that console, he'll put it on speakers."

"_-Konti. I repeat, I must speak to Commander Konti._"

"Kinda! This is Konti. Can you hear me?"

"_Commander! Sub-commander Kinda reporting, sir. I know you gave strict orders not to be disturbed, sir, and I seriously regret having to inform you that our internal defense systems were functioning inadequately-_"

"Kinda!" Konti bellowed. "Get to the point!"

"_Yes, sir. Kadat has escaped, sir, he and the four delegates. And..._"

"And?" Konti's impatience was obvious.

"_And, they've taken a portable phaser cannon. I do not know their intentions, sir_."

"I trust you have raised shields?"

"_Yes, sir. Sensors indicate all other vessels have done likewise_."

"Where is Kadat now? Do you know?"

"_Highly probable they are on the planet below, sir_."

"Inform me at once if they begin firing. And Kinda," he paused for effect, "Do not panic. I will settle Kadat, I promise you. Konti out."

Konti turned to Kirk. "Can you really hear me, or should I spell for you?"

"I hear it through him," Kirk assured him. "There's very little delay. I heard your conversation with Kinda too. There's one thing he didn't tell you, and maybe he doesn't know. _Enterprise_ has just reported an attack by Klingons with one dead, three injured, and three taken captive: Dr. McCoy, Commander Uhura, and the injured Romulan. So if you were about to tell me this is _your_ problem, know that it has just become _our_ problem."

Kirk turned to address the 'monster.' "First, can you get a fix on that planet-side activity? Can you show it to me? There, I see. Looks like they're going somewhere. Can you get closer? I want to identify individuals. That's them all right. Five Klingons, Uhura, McCoy, and they've got the Romulan on a stretcher. Back off a bit. Where are they going, why, and how long will it take them to get there? Ooh- not good. I'm guessing they'll reach that gorge in less than ten minutes. Can you disable that weapon?"

"Not without cutting power to all seven of your vessels as well," First replied.

"That's a last resort then. We'll rely on the shields for now," Kirk decided. "I'd like to get a team down there before they get set. But a standard transporter makes noise; they'd hear us coming. So the team has to come from here. But it's got to be a hand-picked team, no trigger-happy fools. Also, we've another problem right here; Spock is running out of time on stalling the audience. We can forfeit the contest, but we've still got Romulan and Klingon hostages that are going to be angry and frightened. Not a good combination."

Konti interrupted, "Kirk, this is my fault. I will get your people back, I promise it. Just let me take-"

"Konti, this is not your fault," Kirk stated emphatically. "But who's to blame is irrelevant. You can come along, but you are _not_ running this show. Those are my people, and I will get them back. Do we understand each other?" He glared at Konti to convey that this was not negotiable.

Konti nodded slowly. "I count it a privilege to accompany you on this mission, and I will not challenge your authority." Konti drew himself erect. "Except, you must understand: Kadat is mine."

"Konti, don't kill him unless you have to. Not for his sake, but for yours."

"Kirk, I have to. My culture requires it."

"Okay, let's go quell the riot, and see how fast we can put together a team."

xxxx

It took no more than a minute to officially forfeit the contest and return the holodeck to a bare grid floor. In the next minute, J'oso appeared and removed the SDU's from Kirk, Spock, and Young. Kirk opened his eyes for the first time in 40 hours. He saw white light with red spots swimming in it. It seemed like eons ago that McCoy had first warned him about this. He blinked several times, but it got no better.

"Jesus, I need a miracle. Eyes, I command you to function now, in Jesus' name. Thank you, Lord."

He opened his eyes, and even though there was no apparent change, he began to function as if the eyes could see. Only Spock knew they could not. And Spock's eyes could see, though things looked pretty dark with the small amount of light Spock was letting in.

"Young, how are the eyes? Can you see?"

"Black and white spots. Got another miracle?"

"Sure. Jesus, I ask You to open Young's eyes and let him see now. Let the adjustment be instantaneous, with normal vision, right now. Thank you, Lord."

"Wow! Like flipping a switch! I know He's powerful, but having it proved right in front of me is still- Thank you, Lord!"

Kirk smiled and turned his attention to the observers, his own eyes still not manifesting the healing he knew was available. _I believe what I know, not what I see_, he told himself. He quickly explained the situation that had come up.

"I'm taking a hand-picked team down there to deal with this. Meanwhile keep your ships shielded, and do not, I repeat, do not fire on the renegades. Any attempt to power up weapons will result in the disabling of your entire vessel. Since I do not want to have to do that, I'm keeping you all here as hostages for the good behavior of your colleagues.

"Torbet, Konti, Young, call your ships and advise them of the situation. Koh, you're in charge of entertaining the assembled guests. Chuck, join us on the holodeck. J'oso, a word with you please."

J'oso stepped to Kirk's side, and he lowered his voice.

"Several things: First, can you create a map table and project that planetary image real-time? We can use the screen in Third's room if we have to, but this'd be better. The rest of this is for you, J'oso, not for First. Roust out all your off-duty men. I want all hands on deck until this crisis is over. Second, bring me the weapons you collected from our guests.

"And last, I want you to understand why I'm not going to ask your men to help with this mission. Kadat and his men are very dangerous, because they have nothing to lose. This calls for seasoned people with combat experience, which your men don't have. For the same reason, I'm not taking J'ret. He did very well on this contest, and it was difficult. So keep an eye on him for me. He may need somebody to talk to. Thanks, J'oso."

J'oso departed and Kirk looked around. Spock was still at his shoulder, being his eyes. Young and Chuck were in one corner nearby. The Romulan team was across the room, keeping their distance. Three of J'oso's men stood around the perimeter keeping watch. Konti and Anastia were both watching him, waiting. Anastia saw him looking her way and approached, somewhat tentatively.

"Captain," she began. "I realize you have no reason to trust me, but I am volunteering for this mission."

He started to respond, but she cut him off.

"No, hear me out, please. We may not be responsible for Kadat, but we are here, and I would like to be part of the solution. If you'll have me, sir."

"Offer accepted. I'd be glad to have you join us, Sub-commander, provided you can secure permission from your superior. And we can't wait for you. Time is critical."

"I understand, sir. I will return shortly. And, thank you, sir."

Before she disappeared on the transporter pad, the map table appeared in the middle of the room. Kirk, Spock, Konti, Young, and Chuck gathered around it to discuss strategy. The cavalcade of renegades and hostages had already reached the gorge, moving somewhat faster than Kirk had hoped. First had informed them of another problem - the mineral content in the area prevented beaming directly into the gorge. They would have to rappel down the sides before getting into position to attack.

As they were discussing the terrain, J'oso appeared with the collected weapons. By the time each had chosen a disrupter, Anastia had returned, having secured Torbet's grudging permission.

"Our principal advantage is surprise. If, let's say, in five minutes, they are here," he continued to use Spock's eyes as he pointed. "Then we could rappel down in front of them here, and behind them here, and all converge at once. But it would have to be precisely timed. In that gorge, we won't see each other. And if I were Kadat, I'd be jamming communications on principle. So it's entirely likely that communicators will be useless. Anybody see anything about this that I'm missing?"

In the silence that followed, Kirk suddenly turned to Spock.

"You could do that?"

"With help, I think so."

"Spock, even to me, that sounds dangerous. There must be another way."

He turned back to the map and silence reigned another thirty seconds.

"But time to consider is something we haven't got. How long would it take you?"

"If it can be done at all, only moments," Spock assured him.

"Okay, we'll adjourn to First's room."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Once there, Spock moved immediately to First and connected with four tentacles. Kirk blinked twice to be sure, but he was seeing Spock with his own eyes. _Thank you, Lord! Right on time._ He turned to the four others. Anastia's eyes were wide. Young, Konti, and Chuck all knew about First's species.

"What Spock is discussing with First is the possibility of setting up a series of mental links, so we could all communicate planet-side without having to use electronic equipment. Setting it up won't be painless, but you won't pass out. It may feel strange, but I'm hoping it'll be just like a radio connection in your head. And no, this has never been done before, so it's not to be considered safe. Any questions?"

"Will we hear everybody's thoughts?" Anastia inquired.

"Will it be a single channel, or separate channels for each?" Young asked.

"Is it even two-way, or do we just listen?" Chuck wanted to know.

"How do we call up and talk, if it's all in the head?" was Konti's question.

"Spock?" Kirk deferred the questions to him.

"Two-way conversation is essential; separate channels probably not. Please attempt to keep your thoughts focused on the task at hand. A focused mind makes the task easier, therefore, more doable. Likewise, use words to communicate. Think them as if you were speaking them. I will be filtering out all unspoken thoughts, so as to keep the channel clear."

"We'll not leave until I'm sure this is working. Who wants to be first? Chuck?"

"I'm most expendable?" Chuck stepped toward Spock without hesitation.

"No one is expendable," growled Kirk.

Chuck just grinned at him before giving his attention to Spock.

*Jim, I cannot shield you from any of this.*

*It's okay, Spock. I won't say anything til you're all done.*

Kirk felt Spock initiate contact with Chuck, then felt the two tentacles land on Chuck's head, heard his gasp, then brief three-way conversation to verify the connection. First then moved the two tentacles to Spock's head and Spock withdrew his hand from Chuck's face. They then exchanged two words to verify the distance link was functioning.

"Young, you're next."

The process was repeated and Young was successfully added. Spock checked that Chuck could talk to Young. So far, so good. Spock had been reasonably sure he could do this much. Adding two more was the big question. And of course, stamina to keep it up long enough was also an unknown factor.

"Konti, your turn."

Spock successfully added Konti to the mix. Konti made no sound at the unusual head pain, not even a mental gasp. Spock took a moment to marshal his mental resources to add the last one.

"Anastia?"

Kirk heard her mental surprise, as much at Spock's finesse, as at the pain. If her standard was Rishon, no wonder she was surprised.

Anyway, Spock had them all. He was now covered in twelve tentacles. The others were all looking at him.

*Can everybody hear me? We'll do radio checks in this order: Konti first, then Young, Chuck, and Anastia.*

They all verified he could be heard.

*First, can you bring up that map for me? Thanks. Can you all see the map?*

Orderly 'yes' responses from all four.

*Konti, Chuck, and myself will approach from the front. Chuck, once we're down, you'll cross to the opposite wall and make your way to the middle of the cavalcade. I'll do the same on my side. There's enough boulders to cover our approach, if we're quiet enough. I don't want to wait for them to come to us, because they might not do what we expect. Konti, you'll take the lead man. That's probably Kadat, but even if it isn't, you take the lead man.

*Young and Anastia will take the rear guard. Young, come up on my side; Anastia, the opposite wall. Come forward to about here,* he pointed a mental finger. *I'd like you two to take out the ones carrying the cannon, but a higher priority is to stop any escape to the rear. Any questions?*

Silence.

*Weapons on stun. Do not shoot to kill. After the initial volley, follow it in with hand-to-hand if necessary. The hostages are not expendable. I repeat, dead hostages are not acceptable. Call in when you're down the ropes and again when you're in position. Silence is necessary. Surprise is everything. Let's go!*

First transported the two groups with their equipment ready to deploy immediately, so they made it to the bottom of the gorge in minutes. Kirk checked the map, and the cavalcade was proceeding as expected. He watched Chuck for a moment, then started silently forward, leaving Konti to follow more slowly.

Kirk checked the map twice more in order to ascertain the best position to locate himself for the attack. Settling down, he waited for the others to call in. About two minutes later, he'd heard from everybody. What could go wrong in two minutes?

Kirk heard Spock yelling at him as he gave the command to go, but it was too late. Everybody was already moving. As soon as Kirk jumped over the boulder in front of him and saw the cavalcade, he understood. He had forgotten to check the map one more time before giving the order to attack. A costly mistake, he feared. The hostages were directly in front of him; the weapon had been moved up next to them; and two of the Klingons were not in sight.

As Kirk advanced, he saw one Klingon go down under Young's fire from his left. Neither Chuck nor Anastia had a target. Konti took out the Klingon at the front of the weapon.

*Take cover! Find the other two!* Kirk yelled, even as he saw the closest Klingon grab Uhura, back toward the weapon, and scream his fury.

"Stop! I'll kill her! Don't come any closer!"

Kirk came to a stop fifteen feet away, lifting his hands in surrender. Kadat had an arm across Uhura's chest, a knife at her throat. The other hand held a disruptor, currently aimed at Kirk. He doubted that Kadat's hold on Uhura was unbreakable, but he was taking no chances. Her eyes watched him for a signal. He shook his head fractionally.

"Carefully put the weapon down, slowly." Kirk complied. "Now step over it. That's far enough." Kirk stopped. Ten feet was still nowhere near close enough.

"Now, your friend over there. Same thing, very slowly."

Young had frozen in position thirty feet to Kirk's left. He was no more able to take out Kadat than Kirk. So he moved to comply.

*Konti, behind you!* It was Anastia.

Kirk heard the whine of disrupter fire. He tensed to spring, but there was no opportunity.

"Kirk! Don't move! I mean it, I'll kill her first."

Young had taken advantage of the moment and dropped to the ground, still holding his weapon. Hopefully Kadat would assume he was hit. Kirk began talking, trying to focus Kadat's attention on himself.

"Let her go, Kadat. You can have me instead. I remember you once said you wanted-" A stone rattled. "You wanted me as a-"

"Shut up, Kirk! Tell your friends to keep their distance. I'll get both you and her before they get me."

"Stay back! He means it!" *Konti, stay out of it til Uhura's safe.*

Silence reigned. Kirk tried again.

"I'm serious, Kadat. You can have me. I'll get you a fully-equipped shuttlecraft. We can go anywhere. I could even get that monster ship up there as an escort. You'd be untouchable."

Kadat seemed to be considering it.

"No one would come after me. They sold me once; they'd do it again. I'd be all yours, for as long as you want. I'd last a long time, I promise you." Kirk was gambling that Kadat couldn't resist satisfying his sadistic nature.

"It's a trick! Why would you do that?"

"Uhura's life is worth it. You leave all the hostages, and this weapon. You get me, and a free ticket anywhere you want to go. Bones, tell him I mean it."

McCoy was crouched next to the Romulan, trying to be inconspicuous.

"He means it, Kadat. He said virtually the same thing when Konti took him from that outpost."

"It's tempting, Kirk, very tempting. But first, I want to see all your people out here in front of me. Call them!" Kadat bared his teeth.

*Ignore this order. Stay where you are!*

"Okay everybody, come on out! Kadat is going to be reasonable. He's going to let everybody go."

Silence and nobody moved. Kirk thought Young was closer than he had been, but didn't want to look that way and draw attention to him.

"Maybe your guys took out my people. Maybe they took out each other, and it's just us left. So let Uhura go, and you can have me."

He took a step forward and raised his hands higher. Kadat tensed, but that was all. Kirk took another step.

"Come on, you've already decided you want me. Quit stalling. With me as a hostage, you can name your price. Lots of high-powered technology - they'll give you whatever you want. They owe me big-time. I'll come willingly, Kadat. I can scream for twelve hours straight, day after day, and when you get tired of the screaming, you can have vivid descriptions instead. Any way you want it, Kadat. I'm yours to command."

Kadat's eyes glazed over as he contemplated the sadistic ecstasy.

_*Go!*_ It was Spock who shouted the word, not Kirk.

Anastia jumped over the weapon, tackling Kadat from behind. Uhura wrenched free, dropped to the ground, and rolled out of the way. Konti charged from the right, Chuck from the left. Young stood and approached slowly, weapon at the ready. Kirk went to Uhura. They stood watching the tangle of bodies. When they separated themselves into Konti, Chuck, and Anastia, Kadat was on the ground, unmoving. Konti held the disrupter, Chuck the knife.

"Is he dead?" Kirk asked quietly.

"I wish," muttered Chuck.

"You said not to kill," Anastia objected. "Those _were_ your orders?"

"Yes, that's what I said, but accidents can happen."

She stood erect. "A Rihannsu warrior kills when she wishes to kill."

"Thank you. I stand corrected. Okay, let's get this wrapped up. First, get word to Sulu. Send us a security detail, and get Bones and his patient back to Sickbay. Young, keep an eye on Kadat. Konti, you and Chuck round up the other four."

xxxx

An hour later, Kirk was again on the holodeck of First's ship. The four Klingon delegates were in the brig on the _Enterprise_; the phaser cannon was under the watchful care of Scotty. M'Benga had assured him the Romulan would recover. He wanted four hours to stabilize his condition before releasing him. It had been pure chance that McCoy, not M'Benga, had been on duty when the abduction occurred. Uhura had been in the room to practice her Rihannsu.

Kirk was staring at Kadat, who was enclosed in a black box in the middle of the room. Kadat could not see him, but somehow knew he was there. His malevolence showed in every line of his body.

"Konti, are you sure?"

"I have to do this, Kirk. Don't put me off any longer."

Kirk turned to look Konti in the eye.

"Can you win?"

"Don't try to protect me, Kirk. You wouldn't put up with that."

Kirk smiled grimly, knowing it was true. He raised his voice.

"All right, clear the deck! You can watch from the monitoring room."

It took some minutes for everyone to exit the holodeck. When Kirk and Konti were the only ones left, Kirk asked First, via Spock, to turn on the audio to Kadat's box.

"Kadat!"

"Kirk! You lying Federation scum! You have no honor. Dishonest trickery! The truth is not in you!" Spittle flew from Kadat's teeth as he screamed.

"Kadat! Shut up and listen to me. You were ensnared by your own lust. Every word I said was true. You could have had me, but you couldn't control your desire. You allowed yourself to be distracted, and my people took full advantage of that weakness. And now, Konti has demanded to have you. This will be a fight to the death, without weapons. Enjoy your last battle!"

Without looking at Konti, Kirk strode to the transporter, and removed himself to Third's room. He heard Kadat's roar of fury as he was released from the box. Rather than watch the fight, Kirk surveyed the crowded room. J'oso's men lined the wall. The Romulan team stood in a group on the far side of the room. The Klingon and Romulan observers sat on the edge of their seats, eyes glued to the screen. Koh was at the controls, Torbet and Anastia on his left, Young and Chuck on his right. Spock and Uhura were upstairs in First's room. Spock insisted he was fine, but Kirk knew better, and was giving him some space to recover. Uhura snatched up the chance to talk to 65 and some of the others. Kirk turned to J'oso, who guarded the transporter.

"Everything okay in here?" He kept his voice low, so as not to distract the fight-watchers.

"Looks that way, sir."

"How's J'ret?"

"Pretty quiet, but he always is. I haven't had much time yet to see if he's okay. You weren't gone more than a few minutes."

"I understand. When you can, then."

In addition to the sounds of bodies colliding and ragged breathing, the room was filled with Kadat's venomous accusations, which Konti did not bother to refute. Most of it concerned Konti's treasonous association with the Federation in the person of Kirk. He watched the four Klingon observers for their reaction. Occasional glances in his direction showed they were aware of him, but told him very little of their true opinion.

Kirk moved off, circling around the back of the room. He glanced at the screen twice, but showed no interest in it. Coming around the far side, he strolled right across in front of the screen, not looking at it once. He returned to stand next to the transporter, held his injured arm, and gazed stoically at the audience. They could not miss concluding that he had no interest in watching this fight. He hoped they would also conclude he didn't care who won.

In point of fact, he was praying fervently for Konti. Kadat was a formidable foe on a good day, and today, he was furious. Kirk hoped Konti could work that to his advantage. His best judge of how it was going was Koh's face. If Koh closed his eyes, it was not going well.

The fight went on more than thirty minutes. Judging from Koh's face, Konti was in a desperate position. More than once, Kirk heard the unmistakable crack of bones breaking. Finally, Kadat's venom was cut off mid-word, with the sound of one more bonecrack. The audience half-rose, then sat back in their seats. Koh's face was grave, but not heart-broken. Kirk glanced at the screen once, to confirm that Konti was the victor. Then he took a step forward.

"J'oso, have Konti and Koh beamed directly to Sickbay on the _Enterprise_." He turned his gaze on the other four Klingons. "I'm keeping two hostages. You may return to your ships. Please arrange for disposal of the body as Konti would desire. J'oso, fetch their weapons. And one other thing. Do not try to leave the area, or make any hostile moves. I'll be in touch."

He turned away and walked to Young.

"Call M'Benga. Is he really going to release that Romulan in three hours, or do I have to stall longer?"

"One moment, Captain."

*Spock, it's over except for the talk. Go get that leg taken care of. I don't want us both in regen at the same time.*

*The leg can wait, Captain. We are not yet in Federation space.*

*Don't force me to make it an order, Spock.*

*As you wish, Captain.*

Young had an answer from M'Benga. No promises, but it looked good for three hours. Kirk sent Young and Chuck back to the _Enterprise._

Kirk walked over to Torbet. "I'm keeping two hostages, you and Sub-commander Anastia. The rest of your people are free to return to your ships. They will not leave the area or make any hostile moves."

Torbet nodded acquiescence and turned to give the orders. Moments later he and Anastia faced Kirk.

Kirk smiled disarmingly. "We have about three hours before M'Benga will release your colleague. What would you like to do? Eat dinner; tour the _Enterprise_; sit and talk?"

"Talk, yes; the tour, perhaps; but if it's permissible, I would also like to meet the many-armed creature you have aboard this vessel."

"I will inquire. One moment."

Kirk walked over to J'oso and issued instructions for the release of the Romulans. Thereafter his men could stand down.

"One other thing, if I can use you to talk to First. Torbet wants to meet you. Can you give him a condensed version of the story of how we met? No technology secrets, and leave out the heroics. And hold it to about thirty minutes. We don't have hours. When you're ready, beam up Torbet, Anastia, and myself. Thanks."

Five minutes later, without warning, they were in First's room. Kirk laughed at the look on Torbet's face. An unexpected transport was disorienting. Uhura appeared in one of the doorways.

"Captain, I can return to the _Enterprise_ whenever you need me."

"Check in with Young. We're not leaving for three hours yet."

"Thank you, Captain." She disappeared back into the room she had come from. Kirk turned back to Torbet, and picked up one of First's arms.

"This gentleman's name designation is First. His people are touch telepaths. For our convenience, they have installed speakers for communication, but it is limited in capacity. They prefer this method."

He plugged in the tentacle he'd been holding.

"For two-way conversation, they need two." He plugged in a second. "To read unspoken thoughts, they need four or more. He has prepared for you a summary of his encounter with the Federation. This can be viewed with just one connection. So please choose your desired level of communication."

Kirk gestured at the arms First had laid out. Anastia immediately picked up two, and Torbet followed suit. First put them all on an open channel.

*Greetings. Spock explained that your people are distantly related to his. I am learning that your galaxy is very different from mine. However, Captain Kirk asked for a summary. Thirty minutes cannot do justice to the subject, but I will try. Spock assimilates much faster than his colleagues, so I have assumed you do too.*

The living history went by so fast that Kirk would not have grasped it at all, except that he had lived it. First included not only their first encounter, but this most recent three months as well. Nor did he leave out Kirk's exploits. So at the end of half an hour, Torbet and Anastia had seen all of what Kirk had done, as seen through First's eyes. How much of it they comprehended, Kirk had no idea.

*Any questions?*First concluded.

Torbet gathered a coherent thought. *Very impressive, if even half of it is true.*

*You doubt its truthfulness! How could you?!*

*Relax, First, don't take it personally. How much of it would you have believed if you weren't there?* Kirk asked, amused.

*But no one doubts the living history! It cannot be falsely created. It is impossible to do! But- I guess, you would have no way of knowing that. My apologies for the outburst.*

*Not a problem. Thanks for the summary, First. Though you could have glossed over some of those embarrassing details.*

*I'm sorry, Captain. You said no heroics, but the story does not exist without the hero. You cannot escape it.*

*I can try. Anyway, can you send us to _Enterprise_ now?*

*Any place in particular?*

*How about the transporter room, and tell Young we're coming.*

First put them on the transporter platform, but not on the pads. Kirk took a long breath to adjust to the gravity change before trying to move. He should feel like this was home, but somehow he didn't quite. Filing that for later consideration, he gestured his guests off the platform.

"Captain!" The technician at the controls was startled. "I was not informed, sir-"

"At ease, Lieutenant. Not your fault."

Captain Young strode through the door at that moment. Kirk suspected he'd been running, but he managed to look composed and at ease. Kirk reminded himself that _Enterprise_ belonged to Young.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain?"

Kirk's words were formal, but his eyes held a twinkle at the irony of the situation.

"The ship is yours, Captain Kirk. How may we serve you and your guests?"

Young conducted the tour and was a very accomplished diplomat. Kirk watched, smiled, greeted crewmen, and reminded himself there were still unanswered questions about Young. Deal with that later. The tour took an hour and included brief visits to the Bridge, Officers' Mess, Sickbay, Rec Deck, and Engineering. While they did not explain any of the visible technology, neither did they try to hide any of it.

Upon leaving Engineering, Young volunteered dinner, or even light refreshments, complete with an informal gathering of officers. Torbet declined in favor of a private conference with Kirk. Young looked a question at Kirk, and got a slight nod. He led the way to a small conference room on Deck 14. Ushering them in with a gesture, Young stopped in the doorway.

"Call if you need anything, Captain." And he was gone.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Kirk gestured them to chairs, and offered beverages from the unit in the corner. Remembering how long he'd been without, Kirk ordered orange juice. Too bad the unit didn't have that Klingon fruit drink. The Romulans declined anything, but Kirk served up more orange juice anyway, saying they might change their minds. He sat down across from them and smiled, waiting for Torbet to initiate the conversation.

"You said we were hostages, but you treat us as honored guests. You have not taken our weapons. There is no armed guard. You sit here, unarmed, with no protection, no means of keeping us should we wish to escape, or even turn the tables and take you hostage. You are not stupid. Why do you not take reasonable precautions?" Torbet asked, drumming his fingers on the table.

"The term 'hostage' was used for the benefit of your people. I want them to behave. But I do not need protection from you. You are an honorable people; treachery is not your way."

"Not everything in your past is honorable."

"You refer to the cloaking device." Kirk tipped his glass slightly before continuing. "Sometimes there is dishonor in one's orders. I do not know that I would repeat the deed, if I were so ordered today."

"It is well that you understand dishonor in one's orders. This whole business with the Klingons was dishonorable. Not that such an alliance is necessarily dishonorable. But the way in which it was conceived and brought to fruition - there is no honor in dealing with traitors."

"You are referring to Kadat? A messy business, that."

"No, Kadat was a late-comer, a side issue. I'm glad Konti killed him; he needed killing. But no, the real issue was you. You knew that, didn't you?"

"So nice to be wanted." Kirk smiled grimly. "Just for the sake of conversation, let's assume I know nothing. But I'd gladly listen to anything you want to tell me."

"Anastia is very impressed with you. So am I, for that matter. You're too honorable a man to be destroyed by the traitors in your midst. It will create problems for me at home when word gets out that I told you this, but I am done with dishonorable treachery."

Torbet told the same tale that Konti had, but he had a name, two names in fact, neither of which Kirk knew personally. But they were very high up. No wonder Perón had not been able to prevent this. He thanked Torbet for the information and said he would try to avoid letting it be known that Torbet had given him the names.

"But you will go after them? They will try again if you don't," Torbet predicted.

"Yes, but discreetly. And the Lord protects me from harm. I am not afraid of them. But their deeds need to be stopped, lest they victimize others."

"How can you say the Lord protects you? He didn't save you from Konti!"

"I don't need protection from Konti. I succeeded in what I came to do. I am not harmed as a result," Kirk insisted.

"If what Konti did to you is not harm, then what is? And what do you mean, what you came to do? You were a pawn, acted upon, not taking action."

"My purpose was to disrupt the alliance, and to share Jesus with the delegates. I let them do what they did, in order to accomplish my goal. I am not a pawn; I refuse to be a victim."

"You let them? I didn't see that you had any choice," Torbet snorted.

"Jesus is powerful enough to rescue me from anything they do. He's done it, and they saw Him do it, more than once."

"Then why didn't He do it again?"

"Getting rescued wasn't the point, though I suspect I'll find there was an element of the miraculous in the timely arrival of First's vessel."

Anastia had been silent up to then. Now she spoke up.

"I have a question. Who is this Jesus you have talked about? What is this power you say He has? I didn't hear what you told the delegates."

Kirk shared the Gospel and as many testimonies as he had time for. They did not make a commitment to the Lord, but agreed to take copies of the Scriptures to study. As the conversation wound down, Anastia had another question.

"Konti is a Christian, isn't he?"

"Yes," Kirk admitted. "So is Koh, and a few others. But they have to keep it pretty quiet. Persecution is to be expected from those who don't understand."

"_Bridge to Captain Kirk._" It was Young.

Kirk stepped to the wall intercom. "Kirk here."

"_M'Benga just called. He's releasing his patient. Shall we meet you in the transporter room?_"

"Can you bring a copy of the Scriptures?" Kirk asked.

"_Be glad to. Ten minutes?_"

"We'll be there. Kirk out."

The injured Romulan was on his feet, though looking a little pale. Anastia took the Scripture tape with a small smile.

"You have given me much to ponder, Captain. Thank you for including me in that contest. It was bizarre, interesting, and insightful. Konti talked to me," Anastia quietly revealed.

"I was hoping he would. But the listeners may have limited what he would have liked to say. He's a good man, unusual among his people. No accident that he was my first contact."

"Are you saying I am your Romulan contact?"

"That is for you to decide. If you find a way to send me a message, I will find a way to come." Kirk smiled warmly.

"I will remember that. Thank you, Captain Kirk."

He turned to Young. "Inform First that the Romulan ships are free to go."

The three Romulans stepped onto the pads and were sent on their way. Kirk turned back to Young.

"I'll be in Sickbay. I assume Konti and Koh are still there?"

"Captain, you've been going non-stop for days. Aren't you even going to eat?"

"Soon, Josh, but it's not time to stop yet. Want to come with me?" Kirk offered. "Or do you have other pressing duties?"

"The Klingons are on the top of my list too, for different reasons."

Konti was sitting up in bed, arguing with Koh. McCoy stood at the foot, arms folded, not understanding a word because it was all in Klingon. Kirk stood in the doorway a moment, then stepped in to let Young slip in behind him. He barked in Klingon to get their attention.

"Konti! Koh! Cease and desist! I can hear you out in the corridor."

Dead silence. Kirk continued in Klingon.

"That's better. Now, given that we are on the _Enterprise_, when others are present, you will speak Standard. Because you are polite and considerate. Yes?" He switched to Standard. "In brief, what is the argument about? Koh?"

"Konti has four cracked ribs, a broken foot, and his left arm is broken in two places. Dr. McCoy suggested the regeneration tank. Konti is insisting there isn't time."

"How much time are we talking?"

McCoy answered. "An hour to set up the tank for his metabolism. Then six hours in the tank, because of the foot. And I'd need to keep him another hour for observation and tests. Koh told me they don't have regen technology, so if he doesn't stay for this, he'll be a cripple for life. Kadat made a real mess of that foot."

"Executive decision: he's staying. Go set up the tank."

McCoy nodded and left. Koh followed him. Konti started to protest again.

"Konti, don't argue. You wanted Kadat. Now you pay. Besides, I've just decided I need to keep some hostages until we get back to Federation space. So relax; you're going to be here awhile. Who's your second in command? Did you order the dismantling of that planet-side conference center, or is that to be done yet?"

"It should be done. Confirm with Kodor, my second on the lead ship, _Falcon._ Commanders Kinzo and Kadeth on the other ships outrank him, but I don't trust them."

"Do I need to take them hostage too?"Kirk asked, not entirely facetiously.

"They'll behave because you have the monster ship, not because you have me."

"I got the picture. Josh, call Kodor and confirm they're ready to leave. Then get First on the line and patch it through to me down here. Thanks."

Young left. Kirk turned back to Konti and reverted to Klingon.

"Is there some other reason you didn't want the regen?"

"You guessed the main reason was how it would look accepting such help from the Federation. Now that you've created an excuse, we can neglect to tell them how badly I was injured. But Kirk, there is another reason. I should not take what is yours. Dr. McCoy said there is only one tank. He is making Spock wait."

"Spock doesn't mind putting it off, and McCoy knows it. You see, none of us likes regen; it's just better than the alternative."

Konti nodded slowly, accepting the explanation. But something else was bothering him too. Kirk just waited.

"Kirk, down there on the planet, with Kadat and, who did he have hostage?"

"Uhura."

"You were distracting Kadat, and Spock was giving the orders. Do you often let him take control like that? Doesn't it undermine your position?"

"Actually, Spock seldom does that. This situation was unique. Kadat might have guessed what we were doing, if I'd had to give the orders. Because of the mind-link, Spock sees what I see, and his reaction time is faster."

Young called to report that Kodor was ready to leave. "_And I have First. Patching through now._"

"First, this is Kirk. We're ready to depart, but I want to take the Klingon ships with us as far as the Neutral Zone. Konti doesn't trust the commanders of the two smaller vessels. Can you disable them and take them in tow?"

"_The disabler is indiscriminate. It would affect all four vessels. I could take you all in tow, but your vessels might not survive the speed._"

"Speed is not what I need. I want the journey to take twelve hours. But cancel the disabling idea. Just keep an eye on them, and stop them if they try to get away."

"_As you wish, Captain. First out._"

"Young, did you get all that?"

"_Yes, Captain, we can handle this. Get some sleep, Jim._"

"Soon, Josh. Thanks. Kirk out."

Kirk sat down to resume his conversation with Konti. It felt odd not to be on the Bridge, but better he leave that to Young for now.

"Kirk, why don't you go to bed? I don't need a babysitter."

"I'm not at the limit yet; it's only been four days. So what would you like to talk about - Romans, chapters six to eight? Or maybe Corinthians?"

Konti allowed himself to be distracted from the pain, and was greatly encouraged and built up in his faith. McCoy and Koh came in to remove Konti to the regen tank, and they hardly interrupted their conversation. McCoy bristled with annoyance, because Kirk was in the way. But he didn't order him out, so Kirk stayed.

They put Konti's foot in first, wanting to give it maximum time, and also wanting to work the bugs out before committing Konti's whole body. This had never been done with a Klingon before, and Koh and McCoy were working hand-in-hand to ensure Konti's safety. Thus there were two conversations in the room, one technical and one spiritual, and each was ignoring the other.

Suddenly McCoy laughed. "Koh, I don't think they heard a word you said."

Kirk turned, startled, and switched to Standard.

"Sorry, gentlemen, did you need our attention?"

"You know, Jim, when I'm not looking at you, I can't tell the difference between your Klingon and Konti's. Uhura's right, you sound like a native speaker. But I can't understand a word of it, so hold off a bit, please. We're ready to put him in the tank."

As they eased Konti's body in up to his neck, Kirk watched his face for a reaction. A slight wrinkling of the nose at the smell, a brief working of the mouth at the slimy feel of the goo, then a definite widening of the eyes in surprise, when McCoy turned on the power. Kirk laughed outright.

"Welcome to the club. I wondered if you'd react the same as we do. It's not bad when it's just part of a limb, but whole-body regen is much worse. Be glad your head's not in it too."

"It's - it's hard to describe."

"Don't try. There's nothing else quite like it."

Koh interrupted. "I want a description, if you don't mind."

Kirk tried. "It's not quantifiable pain, exactly, though I don't know anyone who thinks the experience is pleasant. It's a crawly, itching feel that's internal as well as external. On top of that is a burning sensation on the skin, all over, not just what's injured. Kind of a cross between an acid reaction and an electrical burn. Lastly, all your muscles start twitching due to the electrical impulses. Konti, if it gets too bad, put your hands in the wrist restraints. They'll hold you still."

"I'd be willing to bet you never use them."

"Only when I'm feeling lazy, or I want to sleep."

"You lazy?! Never!"

"I've even been known to be irritable occasionally too. Just ask Dr. McCoy."

"That's a colossal understatement," McCoy retorted. "Now you, Captain, go get a meal and eight hours sleep, or I'm going to do that arm right now."

"A serious threat indeed." Kirk grinned.

McCoy reached for his scanner.

"Okay, I'm going. See you later, Konti, Koh."

"Jim," McCoy stopped him. "Wear this brace on that arm." He threw it to Kirk.

"Bones-" Kirk started to object.

"It's not for comfort," McCoy hastily clarified. "It's to prevent further damage."

"If you insist," Kirk acquiesced grudgingly.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Kirk actually only slept for six hours. And he accomplished that only because Spock sat in unmoving meditation until he fell asleep. Once asleep, he stayed asleep even when Spock resumed his work. He was still at it when Kirk woke up.

*Good morning, Jim. You are much rested.*

*Did you work all night, Spock?*

*Actually, ship's time, it is mid-afternoon.*

*I don't even have to ask how it's going. There are certain advantages to this.*

*Long-term, they would not outweigh the disadvantages.*

*But I'm not looking forward to ending it, any more than I like the regen tank.*

*It will be far worse than regen.*

*Not today then. Today we have the Klingons, and then First and J'oso. I'll let you know how much of it I want you there for.*

Kirk spent an hour with the Lord, took a shower, ate a quick meal, and paid a trip to the Bridge. Sulu had the conn. They were on yellow alert, with four-hour watches. Uhura was due to take over in twenty minutes. They would be approaching the Neutral Zone in a little over an hour. No trouble from the Klingon vessels.

"Check with Young, but I'd recommend a full complement of senior officers. I'm not expecting trouble, but this is where we'll have it if we're going to. I'll be in Sickbay if you need me."

"Aye, Captain."

Alone in the lift, Kirk spoke to Spock. *It's odd having to recommend things, instead of give orders. Makes me a little more sympathetic to diplomats in charge of a mission, but not the ship. Only a little more, mind you.*

Spock laughed at him.

*Can you laugh only because this is all mental? Or would you laugh out loud, if I was there?*

*That would probably depend on who else was there, but I am making progress.*

When Kirk entered Konti's room in Sickbay, he saw Konti pacing up and down the few feet of floor space, testing the newly repaired foot. Neither McCoy nor Koh paid any attention to his nakedness. Kirk, however, saw that the regen tank had removed the scar on Konti's belly. The trust that scar had been a symbol of, however, was still intact. Kirk focused his attention on Koh and McCoy. Heads together, comparing data on the scanner with previous test results, they seemed the best of friends. Kirk smiled, caught Konti's eye, and grinned.

"You certainly look better than when I left. How do you feel, Konti?"

"Better than I have any right to, but I still wouldn't want to have to do that again. Is it time to go?"

"Almost. I see the good doctors have made friends."

"Just don't talk to me about what they did to you, Jim. My business is to help people, not torture them."

"Bones, you really should find out what Koh knows. It would revolutionize command conditioning."

"Jim, I don't want to know. It's already bad enough."

"Well, I do. Koh, what are the chances of getting a copy of your notes?"

"You want the formula for the double drug?" Koh asked.

"Among other things," Kirk agreed.

"Even if I could convince myself that wasn't treason, how would I get you the data? That's a lot of tapes."

"How about a fair exchange: four Klingon prisoners for your complete medical file on me?"

"Kirk, what do want all that for?" Koh protested. "You lived it."

"I don't want to have to relive it. If I can turn over the complete file, maybe they'll leave me alone."

"I wouldn't bet on it, if I were you. The wiser thing to do would be to keep your mouth shut and bury the file."

Kirk shook his head. "Not an option. Doesn't qualify as complete transparency."

"Don't tell me you're going to play that game with everybody?!"

"Maybe not quite everybody, all the time. Certain situations call for a degree of subterfuge. So, do I get my file?"

At that moment the lights went out. All sound and feel of power ceased. They began to float.

"Don't panic," Kirk instructed. "That's probably First with the disabler. He'll probably take me in a minute. Konti, get dressed. I may need you."

Kirk was suddenly in First's room. He quickly picked up two tentacles and plugged in.

*What's up, First?*

*One of the small vessels began weapons power-up. The other then attempted to veer off.*

*Did the large vessel make any moves?*

*It was attempting communication with the small vessels.*

*Okay. Pull the commander off each of those small vessels. Put them in black boxes on the holodeck. Then restore power to all vessels, and show me what happens.*

As Kirk watched the monitor, the vessel veering off made a big circle, and stopped, somewhat farther away, but no longer attempting to leave the area. The vessel powering up weapons continued to do so.

*Get me a channel to the one powering up weapons.*

*Come closer to the console, and speak aloud. You're on.*

"This is Kirk. Cease powering up your weapons. I repeat, stand down your weapons. Now."

They did not comply.

*Hit the disabler, and get Konti over here.*

"Konti, plug in."

Kirk explained briefly.

*How many people are on that vessel?*

*Twelve.*

*First, black box all twelve. Then send Konti and Spock to that vessel, and restore power.*

Through Spock, Kirk learned that they had booby-trapped the vessel. The weapons power-up would continue as long as power was on, and it would resume as soon as it was restored. The weapons would overload and explode within five more minutes. Spock did not think he could override the trap in the time available, but he was willing to try.

*Hit the disabler, and get Young and Chuck over here.*

Kirk explained what he had in mind, and First sent Chuck back to the _Enterprise_. Then he towed the offending vessel far enough away that its explosion would do no damage to the rest of them. He sent Kirk and Young to assist Spock and Konti, and finally, restored power.

They had four minutes. The Bridge was cramped. Young sat down beside Spock; Kirk stood over his shoulder. His only job was to read the Klingon that appeared on Young's screen. Konti was doing the same for Spock. Afterwards, Kirk registered how much of a computer expert Young was, but at the time, he simply read aloud what he saw.

First's instructions were to pull them off when the four minutes were up unless he could see from the monitor that the problem was solved. Young's and Spock's fingers flew over the console as they tried one thing after another at lightning speed. Finally Young spoke.

"There. I think this may be it."

Spock pulled up the same screen, and they hammered at this screen with code after code, trying to crack it. With two seconds left on the clock, they hit on the right code. The screens turned blue, then red, then green. And suddenly they were in First's room. Kirk picked up two tentacles.

*Send Spock back!*

First obeyed instantly, aware they were not only risking Spock, but First's ship and everyone aboard it.

*Thirty seconds more. Be ready to pull Spock, and jump, when I say go.*

*I have it, Jim. Powering down. Josh and I can bring this vessel back. You and Konti have a holodeck full of Klingons.*

*First, send Young back to Spock. Call Chuck with an update. And send Konti and me to the holodeck. Thanks.*

Kirk and Konti stared in silence for a moment at fourteen black boxes.

"Well, what shall we do with them?"

"They are your prisoners, Kirk. You tell me."

"I could up the ante for that medical file, but 18 prisoners for one file doesn't look right. I could keep the vessel, but that wouldn't go well for you at home. You need to be able to say, 'successfully negotiated with the Federation scum for the release of 18 loyal Klingons.' Coming home minus one ship doesn't look very successful. I assume you can put together a prize crew. But I think we'd best call these fourteen your prisoners. Don't think too badly of them. They're just misinformed about who the enemy is. Which reminds me: Torbet gave me two names. Pellinger and Cosbet. Beware of any dealings from either source."

"Thank you, Kirk. You continue to remind me to revise my opinion of the Federation, and even the Romulans."

"Not all are good, any more than all are bad. Keep looking for the good, and it will find you. We'll leave these guys right here for now. First," he raised his voice, "send us back to _Enterprise_ please."

The next moment, they were back in Sickbay, explaining to McCoy and Koh what had happened.

"I'm not surprised that Spock asked for Young," McCoy noted. "There's more to him than meets the eye."

"It was almost like having two Spocks. And they didn't need to talk about it either. Incredible!"

Kirk gave Konti and Koh a tour of the _Enterprise_ while Young and Spock were bringing back the Klingon vessel. While the cavalcade made its way to the border, Kirk, Konti, Koh, and McCoy ate dinner together. McCoy was on good behavior; Konti and Koh were relaxed; Kirk was happy. Toward the close of the meal, Kirk turned the conversation to a serious note.

"Konti, some day, our peoples will be friends, not enemies. Meanwhile, it will be safer for you if we don't try to communicate. Nevertheless, if you need me, find a way to let me know. I'm not a free agent, but I will do what I can," Kirk promised.

They held eye contact for a long moment. "Thank you, Kirk. After this fiasco, I hope not to be in a situation where I need you. You survived it, but I did not think you would."

"Neither did I," muttered Koh.

"You need more faith in the Lord," Kirk smiled. "And you didn't know this, but Spock is as stubborn as I am. Put the two of us together, and you have more than twice as much stubbornness."

"At any rate, I hope the experience will never be repeated, by any of us. And that medical file you want doesn't have much on this. All I had time for was inputting the raw data. And I haven't got that contest at all, because it wasn't on my computer," Koh confessed.

"I'll take what I can get. Does this mean you've decided I can have it?"

Koh turned to Konti, who nodded.

"It'll take me the better part of an hour to compile it for you. And of course, it's all in Klingon," Koh quipped.

"Thank you both. I appreciate this."

xxxx

They reached the border and the cavalcade came to a halt. Kirk sent Koh to compile the medical report. He took Konti to First, and gave him the same summary he had given Torbet. Konti could not assimilate any faster than Kirk could, so he asked First to slow it down. By the time they finished, Koh had the file.

In short order the Klingon prisoners were transferred to the _Falcon_, both sets of them; Young and Spock returned to the _Enterprise_; and a Klingon prize crew was installed on the recovered vessel. Koh personally carried the medical file tapes to the _Enterprise_, and handed them over to Kirk. There were nine tapes altogether.

They stood in the transporter room of the _Enterprise_ for final goodbyes. Young, Spock, and McCoy stood back. Kirk grasped Koh, then Konti, in Klingon-style hugs.

"I will miss you guys. Give my best wishes to Korn and Kezak."

"I will, Kirk. I had no idea when I gave you your freedom that we'd be seeing each other again so soon. I'm glad this worked out. Also very glad your memory is restored. I understand you don't have the _Enterprise_, but you have the rest. And I don't regret letting you go, even if my father does."

"His position is dangerous. Pray for him. And about the _Enterprise_, I may yet be getting it back. So be warned: the formidable foe is in the field again. May we not meet that way. Goodbye, Konti. I continue to pray for you. And Koh, thanks for everything."

The _Enterprise_ and First's vessel made it across the Neutral Zone and into Federation space without any mishap. Kirk was on the Bridge, standing to the right of Young in the command seat. Spock had gone back to his quarters to continue his research. Chuck and the rest of the senior Bridge crew were at their stations. Young would have relinquished the center seat to Kirk, but he refused.

"It's still your ship, Captain. I recommend you contact Perón with an update. I understand Mr. Scott would like to put in at the nearest starbase, which I believe would be #7. I would like a few hours on First's vessel before bidding them goodbye."

"Of course, Captain. Chekov, lay in a course for Starbase 7. Sulu, warp four, please. Uhura, contact First with our course heading. Request transport for Captain Kirk. And then get me Admiral Perón."

Within minutes, Kirk was again standing in First's room.

*Thanks for all your help, First. Before you go, I'd like to know how you came to be where we were in need of rescue. J'oso said it was a good story.*

*It is, but rightly it's J'ret's story. About a week after I got home, J'orn requested a private conference. I suggested we meet after the next council session. He was rather cagey, but hinted that time might be crucial. So I agreed to meet him in the arena that afternoon.*

Kirk saw it as if he was First. J'orn appeared in front of him on the arena floor.

"Thank you, sir, for agreeing to see me. What I have to say is extremely sensitive. Could we possibly go somewhere more private?"

"Privacy is best obtained by establishing a private channel of communication, using two of my arms."

"But this is a public place. I do not think it wise to advertise that we are having a private conversation, much less what about."

"I could take you to my quarters, but all my family, as well as the Ruling Ring, will know you are there. I do not live a private life."

With reluctance, J'orn picked up two arms and First plugged in.

*We will talk here then, and I will try to be brief. J'ret does this all the time, but he's like J'im. I have managed to forget what this feels like. Anyway, the problem is this. J'ret came to me last week with what I thought was a wild story. It sounded incredible, but anything having to do with J'im would be. I thought they were making it up, and at first, J'ret did too. But the descriptions were so vivid, J'ret said, and the emotions so real.*

*Who was making up what?*

*The ten Watchers that tried to kill him. J'ret's been working with them every day. He said the visions began within days of when J'im left. And they've been getting more and more frequent.*

*Those ten have been having visions about Captain Kirk? What kind of visions?*

*I haven't seen them myself. They only talk to J'ret. But he says they're convinced that J'im is in deadly danger. The first visions were just about the agony. Indescribable, they called it; much worse than what they'd done to him. The two who'd got the vision first were so upset, they couldn't register anything about the surroundings. The only thing they were sure of is that J'im was neither frightened nor angry.*

*If we're going to keep this brief, you better get to the bottom line. What do you want me to do?*

*Those Watchers think you should go rescue J'im. The last one was convinced that his situation was absolutely hopeless without your help.*

*I left Captain Kirk on the _Enterprise_. He was in no danger two weeks ago. When those visions began, he was still on our ship. It sounds to me like the whole thing is a figment of their deranged minds.*

*That's what I thought. J'ret did too at first. That's why I want this kept quiet. If the planet finds out we ignored such a thing, even if there's nothing to it; well, you know what they think of J'im.*

*All right. I'll look into it. And thank you.*

First showed up at J'ret's next Watcher session.

*Thank you for coming, sir. I presume J'orn talked to you. Every one of them has had the vision once, several of them, two or three times. It's all they'll talk about, and they're getting positively frantic. Nothing I say helps. They insist I can't possibly know how J'im is. If you would listen to them, maybe it would help.*

*So you don't believe the danger is real?

*I didn't at first. It seemed so unlikely. And their feelings about him are still pretty confused. Now, I don't know what to believe. I'm hoping you can help.*

*Is the vision always the same? Have they showed it to you?*

*I have to beg, but yes, I've seen them all. It's pretty overwhelming, sir. Each one is a little different, as if they're consecutive bits of time. But it's clearly all the same incident: the agony, what I can see of the room, the people.*

*Tell me about the people.*

*Well, in the vision, I'm J'im. But it's confusing because somehow, I'm also Spock. But we talk to each other, and there's no physical connection, so it's something different than that test-thing they did. That's one of the things that makes me think this is not just their imaginations. The little things that are different. Anyway, I'm in a room and Spock is there, but he's also in my head. It's a fairly big room, though not like this arena at all. There's a lot of other people, not the same race. J'im knows a couple of them.*

Suddenly their conversation was interrupted by a loud moaning sound.

*Uh-oh. One of them's having another vision. I better go see. It gets all of them upset. Stick around if you can. They may agree to show it to you.*

The moaning sound grew louder as the other Watchers took it up. The one having the vision was coiled in on himself, shaking and rocking back and forth. J'ret gathered the others in a circle around the shaking one, linking them together for mutual support. After several minutes, the moaning dwindled to nothing and the shaking and rocking came to a stop. J'ret began cautiously unwrapping the coils and plugged himself in. Some ten minutes later, he came back to First.

*3649 has had three others before this one. I haven't taken the time to persuade him to let me see this one. It's more of the same, he says. I have got him to agree to show you all four. It wasn't easy, sir. They are all still a bit afraid of you. But they know you have the power to act, and they are very desperate. I should explain something else. I had thought the reason for their growing desperation was to be free of the torture of these visions. But that isn't it; they're desperate to be believed, because they fear for J'im's life.*

*That's quite a switch.*

*It is, but it's all the more powerful because of that. I should know, sir. Please be careful with them, sir; their emotions are very fragile.*

The four visions Kirk saw could have been taken from his own memory. But First didn't have those memories, nor did J'ret or his Watchers. This was clearly the miraculous at work. The first scene was nothing but agony. Kirk recognized it as a snippet from the first few hours. The second scene was of the moment Kirk had lost control and screamed mentally, and concluded with his gazing warmly into Koh's eyes. The third vision had been Spock's entrance, and included their conversation about relying on the _Enterprise_ for rescue. The last scene had been the moment Kirk slapped Konti in the face, and included both Spock's and Konti's responses.

First withdrew from 3649, and spoke again with J'ret.

*I understand why they are disturbed. This level of physical pain cannot be ignored, even by us. I am frankly surprised you could tolerate it at all.*

*Without J'im's training, I couldn't have. But that's not really what they're disturbed about. In the vision, J'im is not disturbed by the agony. He's not disturbed by the hopelessness of the situation either. But that doesn't mean he doesn't need help. Sir, can I ask you something personal?*

*Yes, of course.*

*When you went to find him the first time, it was because of a vision. Did you know then the urgency of it? What made you decide to act?*

*No, I did not. I thought it foolishness. I was forced into action by a very close friend, who very nearly died as a result. Your point is well-taken. I do not wish to repeat my error. We will take this seriously. I concede there is a definite possibility that God is trying to tell us something. I want all ten of them examined by 65. I want to eliminate the possibility that these visions are from the Captain's history. I will discuss this with the Ruling Ring. After that, we'll call a council meeting.*

*Thank you, sir.*

First returned to conversation mode.

*It took us the better part of a week to decide what to do and how, during which there were more visions. The Ring okayed the trip; the council voted to send your elite team, or as much of it as could be gathered in no time flat. The ten were becoming frantic about the time. Otherwise, we'd have had representatives from all units of all races wanting to come along.

*J'oso and J'rip really pulled this together. They dropped everything, gathered the troops, supplies and provisions, and were ready to roll in less than 24 hours. We brought along two of the ten, 3649, and 7221, because they'd received more pieces of the vision than the rest. And they had two more visions after we left; one gave us the star charts to find you with; the other showed what would occur in that room when we arrived.*

*It's quite a story, thanks. One thing puzzles me. Your people do not use guns, yet J'oso and company were equipped with stun guns. Where did you get them?*

First chuckled nervously. *A bit of subterfuge, that was. The guns do not actually do anything. They merely look like powerful weapons. We do not have the technology to make such. But J'ret was convinced that your enemies needed to see weapons in their hands in order to be thoroughly convinced of our superiority.*

Kirk burst out laughing at the realization that they'd all been fooled by the fake.

*That was quite a risk. What if somebody had gotten violent?*

*J'oso was confident you wouldn't let that happen. He said all you needed was an edge, and you would take control of the situation, which you did. I apologize for the delay between cutting the power and the arrival of J'oso and company. He wanted to be on the scene within thirty seconds. Three minutes was the best I could manage.*

*I understand. Violence would have erupted within minutes, even if you hadn't arrived. We could've lost a lot more than the one we did. Again, thank you very much for the timely rescue.*

Kirk made the rounds in Third's room and their quarters, thanking each man for his help. All the beds and chairs were occupied, and several were sitting on the floor. All greeted him with smiles; the atmosphere was cheerful and relaxed. Kirk spoke with J'oso and J'rip last.

"Well, gentlemen, I thank you very much for the assist. Without you, it could well have been a disaster. My congratulations on a superb job. You took quite a risk, walking into that mess."

"Because of the visions, we knew what was there. J'ret drew us a diagram. But J'im, you trained us. The ability to function blind, to act like a military force, and not to be intimidated by anything - these things we learned from you. But that contest thing was completely unexpected."

"If I'd known your guns were fakes, I would have disarmed everybody. Sorry I put you under that additional stress."

"Not your fault, J'im. But did you get what you were after with that contest? Or did Kadat ruin it?"

"I planted a seed. Anastia took a copy of the Scriptures. God will bring forth the fruit when it's time."

Kirk found J'ret talking with 3649 and 7221. He gestured them to plug in for a four-way conversation.

*Thank you J'ret, 3649, 7221, and all the others. I understand you paid quite a price to rescue us. I am very grateful.*

*You are welcome, J'im. I am privileged to be in a place to help,* J'ret replied.

*The worst was not being believed. They thought we were making it up,* 3649 explained.

*Feeling helpless was worse than the agony,* 7221 added.

*J'im, we only got small bits of what you were going through. I know you keep stretching your limits, but this was way over the top; I could feel that it was. How did you survive it?*

*By accessing the grace of God. All but the first few hours was walking in the supernatural.* He changed the subject. *Any questions or unresolved issues about that contest? We didn't get any chance to talk, but I really appreciate your help.*

*I'm okay. Just glad I didn't have to be alone much with Konti. I managed to be civil, but I couldn't forget all that agony. But you obviously didn't have that problem. I remember what you said about walking in forgiveness all the time. But to forgive that?! I don't know if I could.*

*Konti and Koh are close friends of mine. We've been through a lot together. Forgiveness was never an issue. But the contest was about reaching Anastia - letting her feel the flow of God's love between us and toward her. Couldn't come right out and preach to her; I'd already done that to the delegates. They needed to see it in action.*


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

It was another four hours before First's vessel left for home. Kirk gave J'oso and his men tours of the _Enterprise_. Then there was an officers' reception on the Rec Deck, and another reception on First's ship, so that First and his people could participate. Kirk insisted Spock attend both of these events, saying it wouldn't look right not to. He would cope with the broken leg and dual sets of sensory input.

*I'm getting almost used to this. But let's not stand next to each other. McCoy will notice, but he'll be even more upset if you don't show.*

*Very well, Captain. I will attend.*

Sure enough, as soon as the last goodbyes were said, and they were back on the _Enterprise_, McCoy pounced.

"Jim, you and Spock didn't say a word to each other all night. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Bones. Just a bit tired. Can we put off fixing the arm until tomorrow?"

"You've put it off this long; one more day won't matter. Do you want anything to help you sleep?" McCoy offered a bit gruffly.

"No, I can sleep through anything. It's mostly just an ache now anyway."

"Tomorrow then. Don't put it off any longer."

"Thanks, Bones."

*Spock, is it possible that McCoy doesn't know about this mind-link?*

*If he did not watch any of the contest, it is possible. Jim, do not consider such a thing. Even if you could conceal it indefinitely, it is not safe, and you know it. But even I must guard against putting off the inevitable.*

*I hear you, Spock, but let's get the regen behind us first.*

*Agreed.*

Kirk made a brief visit to the Bridge, ascertaining that Starbase 7 was more than a day away. Scotty had requested reducing speed to warp two, since there was no rush.

"He says it's holding together with duct tape and chewing gum, which I'm sure is an exaggeration, but you get the idea."

Young and Kirk shared a chuckle.

"Okay, Josh. I'll be in my quarters if you need me. And I've got an appointment in Sickbay first thing in the morning. Good night, and thanks for everything, Captain."

xxxx

"Jim, I have to rebreak it." McCoy was looking at the X-ray of Kirk's broken arm, as they sat in McCoy's office.

"I expected you would. Is that a problem?"

"Other than the fact that you hate general anesthesia, no."

"Why do you have to knock me out to break my arm?"

"I can't do it with a local, and the arm has to be precisely positioned."

"You think I can't hold still," Kirk concluded quietly, trying not to be defensive.

"I don't want to have to bet that you could."

"Why not? How long does it take?"

"Jim, we have a version of this argument every time you're in here. You'll only be under for ten minutes. You can survive it," McCoy insisted.

"You wouldn't be putting Spock under for such a thing."

"You're not Spock."

"I'm a lot closer than I used to be. Bones, just give me a chance to prove it to you. What do we lose if I'm wrong?" Kirk was still trying to be reasonable.

"We break the arm in the wrong place. That means surgery to put in a pin, a cast for six weeks, then maybe, only maybe, we can do it right the second time."

"I'll risk it." Kirk decided the benefit was worth begging. "Please?"

"You really hate general anesthesia, don't you?"

"I really hate it, Bones."

"All right, I'll tell you what I can do. I've got an experimental drug. I can inject the central nerve at the shoulder. It'll paralyze the entire arm. But it won't keep you from feeling every bit of the pain. And could well make it a lot worse."

"Thanks, Bones. I appreciate this."

On the way out of McCoy's office, Kirk stumbled. He'd been momentarily distracted from the broken leg.

"Jim, what's wrong with your leg?"

McCoy picked up the med-scanner on his way out of the office.

"Nothing, Bones. I'm fine."

Kirk managed to avoid repeating the blunder as he walked down to Surgery Room C. McCoy laid the scanner on the counter next to the door and gestured Kirk onto the table. Kirk took off his uniform jacket and shirt, and sat on the edge of the table, aware that McCoy was watching his every move.

"You want me to take off the rest of it too?"

"No, that's sufficient. I don't need a sterile environment for this."

McCoy came two steps closer, planted his feet, and crossed his arms.

"Okay, Jim, what are you not telling me?"

"About the arm? I told you it doesn't hurt much, as long as I remember not to twist it, or grab anything with the right hand." Kirk was puzzled.

"It's not about the arm. Come on, don't make me pry it out of you."

"It would help if I had some idea what you're talking about."

"Don't play innocent with me, Jim. Tell me the truth." McCoy crossed his arms and rocked back and forth on his feet.

"The truth about what?"

McCoy turned abruptly and called M'Benga on the intercom.

"Could you join me in Surgery C for a moment?"

Silence while they waited for M'Benga. McCoy handed him the med-scanner and gestured him to use it on Kirk. He did, checked it, and did it again. Then he turned gravely to McCoy.

"May I have a word with you, Doctor?"

And they both left the room.

*Spock, what's going on? They act like I'm terminally ill.*

*Dr M'Benga has undoubtedly read the latest medical reports.*

*Which say?*

*The med-scanner will have told them what we have done.*

*So why all the pussy-footing around?*

*Why don't you want to tell them?*

*I don't know.*

*You are doing exactly what the reports say you will do.*

At this moment, McCoy returned without M'Benga. He was cheerfully all business, as if the prior attempt at confrontation had never occurred.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Jim. Go ahead and lie down. Bend your knees; scoot down, so I've got room for the arm over your head."

He proceeded to strap Kirk down very thoroughly, with his right arm extended above his head. Kirk grinned and said nothing. McCoy positioned a box-like device over Kirk's armpit. He did not explain, but Kirk guessed it would enable him to see the nerve he was going to inject. Taking drug and syringe from a drawer, he waved the long, wicked-looking needle in Kirk's face.

"Last chance to change your mind. The injection hurts. All the nerves in your arm will hurt. And that's before I break your arm. You don't have to do this."

"I hate anesthesia. Go ahead, Bones. I'll be fine."

McCoy nodded curtly and turned to the job at hand. It was impossible to relax the muscles completely, because of the position of the arm, but Kirk tried anyway. He watched McCoy work, noting the level of concentration required. After several minutes, the needle was withdrawn, the box device removed.

"Thank you, Bones. I know that was hard for you. I really appreciate your doing it this way."

McCoy looked bleak. "I shouldn't ask you this, but how did you do that?"

"Do what? I didn't do anything."

"That's just it. Not a twitch, gasp, or jerk. I questioned that I'd found the nerve, but it looked right, so we'll see if it works."

"I'm no expert, but it certainly felt right to me, and it's doing exactly what you said it would. Similar to First's needles, but more internal. I can give you a running commentary on the whole thing if you want."

"Does that make it easier?" McCoy almost choked on the last word.

"Doesn't matter to me; I'm just trying to be helpful."

"Jim... Never mind. We'll wait another few minutes. Give the drug a chance to work." He left, closing the door softly behind him.

*Spock, he's upset, but I'm not sure why. He hates pain, but it's more than that.*

*He thinks I did this for you.*

*It never occurred to me to ask you to. But that doesn't explain why he's upset. I don't think he's still mad at Koh.*

*He is upset about our mind-link.*

*Why?*

McCoy returned, interrupting their conversation.

"How does the arm feel now?"

"Worse," Kirk replied cheerfully. "Stabbing pain at the injection site. The needles I mentioned, there are more of them, and it's more intense. And the whole arm feels both hot and cold at the same time. Is that what the drug does: confuse the signals to the brain?"

"It's one of the side effects. Can you move the arm?"

He'd removed all the restraints.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

McCoy moved the arm down to Kirk's side.

"Still can't move it? Anything feel different?"

"Stabbing pain is worse. The rest is more or less the same."

"Which finger am I touching?"

"Index."

"Move it."

"Can't."

McCoy tested thumb and little finger with the same results. Then he placed Kirk's arm on a cart he had wheeled to the edge of the table.

"Jim, it's not that I don't believe you, but I have to be sure. Close your eyes, and relax. Let the arm do what it will."

Kirk felt the electric shocks in each fingertip in a random pattern that went on for almost two minutes. Then McCoy turned it off.

"Now, Jim, tell me the truth. If you had known what was coming, could you have kept yourself from reacting to that?" There was more to McCoy's question than medical curiosity.

"Yes. Wouldn't even have had to know it was coming. But you told me not to control it, so I didn't. Want to do it to the other hand for an A-B comparison?"

"That won't be necessary. It'll take me a bit to get this set up. Be patient."

"Sure. Just tell me what to do."

McCoy worked in silence for almost ten minutes. He strapped Kirk's arm into the machine, took lots of pictures, and spent most of those ten minutes precisely aligning the hammer that would break the arm. Then without warning, he pressed the button, and the arm exploded with agony. Kirk stopped breathing for a fraction of a second, but that was the only visible reaction, and McCoy didn't even notice that.

"Do you like pretending to be Spock?"

"Would you rather I scream?" Kirk asked mildly.

"No, but one Spock around here is enough."

"Bones, what's eating you? You're mad about something."

"Let's get that arm into the tank," McCoy brushed him off gruffly.

McCoy carefully splinted the arm on both sides and removed it from the machine. He let Kirk walk to the back room where the tank was. The smell hit him as soon as he opened the door. Several minutes later, he was flat on his back with his arm securely strapped into the tank. With advice to take a nap, McCoy left.

*Spock, why is he upset about the mind-link?*

*Two reasons. He has read the reports. He knows what we will encounter when severing the link. But more immediately, you are exhibiting classic symptoms of one in your position.*

*Wait a minute! How could there be classic symptoms? How often has such a thing as this been done?*

*What we have done is similar to the marriage bond, though deeper and more constant. There are three reported occasions of a deep, but temporary bond for purposes other than marriage. All three of these were links between two Vulcans. On the first occasion, both parties died when the link was severed. In the second instance, only one of the pair died, but the other has been in seclusion ever since. In the third instance, both returned to normal society, but their link had lasted less than one standard day.*

*Pretty depressing statistics, but that's not symptoms.*

*In each case, when the crisis was over, the linked pair began exhibiting certain abnormal behaviors. A refusal to discuss the link with others, apparently attempting to deny its existence, so as to avoid the need to sever it. Especially alarming because these were Vulcans, who should be able to overcome such illogical tendencies.*

*So, I'm sticking my head in the sand. What else do the reports say I will do?*

*During the avoidance stage, the pair either withdrew, and would talk to no one else, or avoided any public contact with each other at all. And when forced to confront the reality of the necessity of severing the link, all pairs exhibited some form of violent hysteria.*

*Ah - That's why they're treating this like the plague. The idea is laughable; after all we've been through, violent hysteria? Seems highly unlikely.*

*That's what I thought, until-*

*Until I started exhibiting symptoms.*

*Jim, I too am exhibiting symptoms.*

*Okay, so what do we do about this?*

*The most important thing we do is to establish a time, place, and witnesses, who will not only hold us accountable, but keep us from killing ourselves, if necessary.*

*The obvious place is Sickbay, though in light of the expected violence, maybe the free-fall court is better. If we need witnesses, then your quarters is probably not the best idea, and mine is definitely too small, unless having no room to move would be an advantage.*

*I would vote for the free-fall court, but we should let the witnesses decide. As to the time, I was going to suggest we wait until the ship is safely docked at Starbase 7. Now, however, I suspect that upon arrival, I would find some perfectly legitimate reason for putting it off.*

*The thought of doing it right now brings on a touch of panic. Hysteria suddenly doesn't seem so far-fetched. I'd rather get your leg fixed first. Violence with a broken leg doesn't sound like a good idea. And yes, I know I'm stalling. How long will this operation take?*

*The actual procedure will take less than thirty minutes, assuming I can force myself to do it. I do not know how much time to allow for preparation and recovery.*

*Depends on the violence? Better tell the witnesses two to four hours. How many witnesses do we need?*

*Dr. McCoy is a given. He may insist on Dr. M'Benga's presence as well. But neither of them could halt the violence with any success.*

*How about Chuck and Josh? Is two enough?*

*My preference would be for fewer people, but if there really is violence, then two is not enough.*

xxxx

About an hour later, McCoy walked in to check the arm.

"Have a nice nap? Let's see how it's doing."

"Actually, I've been talking to Spock."

McCoy became suddenly still, but wouldn't look at Kirk's eyes. He continued examining the arm.

"Looks pretty good. I'd like to give it another half hour."

"How long do you expect Spock's to take?"

"I don't know. It depends. Why?"

"I want to know if there's time before we get to Starbase 7 to do both the leg and-" He forced himself to spit out the words. "-and the mental surgery."

McCoy turned and stared at Kirk.

"Bones, Spock told me what you're upset about, and we agree, it's a valid concern. So this is what we want you to do."

McCoy pulled up a chair and listened intently to Kirk lay out everything he and Spock had discussed. Then he sat back with a sigh.

"I'm sorry for doubting you, Jim. I should have known you and Spock wouldn't do this the way the others did. It's just that when you wouldn't tell me about the mind-link in order to avoid the injection, I thought we were in serious trouble."

"Why would I want to avoid the injection? I was avoiding the anesthesia. I told you that. I hate the stuff," Kirk grimaced.

"Jim, I knew Spock could hold that arm still without an injection, but you wouldn't tell me, so you got the injection, even though I knew you didn't need it."

"It never occurred to me to ask Spock to do it for me. He didn't do any of it. And when you break his leg, he can't protect me from that either. It's not a problem. And don't be apologizing for the injection. As the price of avoiding anesthesia, it was a bargain."

"Okay, Jim, one more X-ray, but I think you're done. How does it feel?"

"The drug hasn't worn off yet."

"It will before the day is out. Tell Spock I want him here within the hour. And I'll let you know what I set up on the mind-link surgery."

"Thanks, Bones. Just tell Spock. See ya."

xxxx

Kirk made a brief visit to the Bridge. Young was in the center seat.

"Good morning, Captain Kirk. Is the arm better?"

"Residual side effects. It should be as good as new by the end of the day. Spock's leg is next. What's the current ETA at Starbase 7?"

Sulu answered. "Approximately 0300 tomorrow morning."

"If Spock's leg doesn't take too long, we have another bit of surgery to take care of. Josh, Dr. McCoy is coordinating the specifics of time and place, but we're going to need some help. I'd appreciate it if you'd talk with him about what's needed and who might be available."

"Of course, Jim. I should let you know, Scotty's requested a full week in dry dock for repairs. Not the most glamorous vacation spot, but everybody's due for shore leave."

Uhura took the opportunity to interrupt. "Captain Kirk, I've received several messages for you. None were Priority One urgent, so I've sent them to the terminal in your current quarters, sir."

"Thanks, Uhura. No doubt, the higher-up's want reports. Paperwork is not among my favorite parts of the job."

"They've got the short version already, so maybe it's something else," was Young's opinion. "At any rate, if you're not too busy, I'd appreciate a private conference with you sometime this afternoon. I promised you a story, and if I wait until tomorrow, other things may require our attention."

"Sure, shall we say 1300 in your office?"

"I'll be there."

xxxx

Kirk went to lunch early. He would have skipped it entirely, but Spock was eating, and it was an opportunity to be seen in public together. Not that either of them would enjoy the encounter, but Kirk was determined to battle the avoidance stage on all fronts. Spock was sitting with Chuck; Kirk joined them.

"Good morning, Spock. Chuck, good to see you."

"Chuck has been updating me on the ship's condition, and has just reminded me that we have a prisoner aboard."

Kirk knew all this; Spock knew he knew; and they were both suppressing annoyance at having to say things out loud. Chuck, however, was puzzled.

"Excuse me, but have you two severed that mental link already? I didn't think there'd been time yet."

"We could have done it last night instead of resting. However, we desired to put the unpleasantness of the regen tank behind us first," Spock explained.

"The truth is, Chuck, we've been stalling," Kirk admitted.

"So why did Spock give you a summary of our conversation when you arrived?"

"We are practicing behaving as we will have to after the link is severed." Spock took a drink and set his glass down in the precise center of the circle on the tray allotted for beverages.

"Why?" Chuck was puzzled about why this should be necessary.

"We are finding the emotional trauma associated with anticipation of the severing to be greater than we had expected." Spock carefully folded his napkin.

"You would think we could just sail through this, and move on with life. But even forcing ourselves to talk about it is difficult." Kirk pushed the food around on his plate.

"So when are you going to break the link?"

"Probably as soon as Spock's leg gets through regen, but we're leaving it up to Dr. McCoy."

"Speaking of whom, I have an appointment in Sickbay, if you will excuse me."

"Sure, Spock. The prisoner can wait one more day," Chuck allowed.

"Let me know as soon as Bones gives you a time frame."

"Of course, Captain."

Kirk turned to Chuck and smiled.

"So how do you like working on the _Enterprise_? Will you be glad to get back to your department on Starbase 7?"

"I've told myself every day that this job was temporary, but I have really enjoyed it. I don't know if I'll be happy on Seven any more. I may put in for a transfer to a starship, even if I have to take a rank reduction. The universe seems so much bigger than it did in my little corner of the world."

"I understand what you mean. Get God's word on it; there's grace for where He puts you."


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Kirk sat down at the computer to get his messages. Left-handed typing was worse than left-handed eating. But he managed the little bit that was necessary to call up the messages.

*Jim-*

*I'm sitting down. It's okay.*

The leg exploded in renewed agony. Kirk sat still, his awareness in Sickbay rather than his computer terminal. Spock made his way from surgery to the regen tank, and after he was settled in it, Kirk returned to his messages. In the back of his mind, he knew that, given the choice, he would not sever the link at all, even though it was dangerous as well as inconvenient at times. But there was no choice. They would sever the link. They must.

There were three messages. The first was from Perón. More or less as expected: grateful thanks and congratulations, followed by the inevitable request for a detailed report at his earliest convenience. Which meant as soon as humanly possible, but he wasn't about to lose his job over a few hours' delay. Speaking of his job, however, there was no mention of the _Enterprise_ or her Captain. A bit odd, but official orders would undoubtedly be forthcoming soon.

The second message was from Sam Cogley.

"I don't usually pay much attention to rumors, but I've heard this one from three different sources, so I'm hoping it's true that you're alive and on the _Enterprise_. I'm not much for social calls, but something prompted me to send this and wish you well. I hope you never have need of my services again. Live long and prosper, Jim. Sam out."

*Spock, Sam doesn't do social mail, so what's this about?*

*You know him better than I do, but the obvious answer is that it is meant as a warning. He has heard dangerous rumors, and thinks you may be in dire straits - again. Possibly, there is a Vulcan connection. Does he have the technical expertise to send a hidden message within the message you see?*

*I have no idea. But if he needed to do such a thing, he would know who could, if he can't. I'll send you a copy.*

*Save it to your files first. An expertly hidden message would not come through on a copy.*

The third message was from Lt. Cdre. Sullivan.

"Captain Kirk, certain matters require your attention. I await you at Starbase 7."

*Terse and ominous.*

Kirk sat back in the chair, pondering. His internal alarm system had been awakened, and he wasn't entirely sure why. Suddenly he felt the ship surge forward in a jump from warp two to...

*Warp six,* Spock supplied.

He hit the intercom. "Kirk to Bridge."

"Young here, Captain. We've just received an urgent request from Starbase 7. Due to sensitive matters, they want us there ASAP. ETA as of now is 1550 hours."

"Who sent the message, if I may ask?"

"Base Commander Graber. Scotty's having fits, but he'll hold her together."

"Josh, I don't have a good feeling about this. Maybe we don't have time for your story, but if you could spare a few minutes, there's something in my quarters I want to show you."

Young was at Kirk's door in less than five minutes.

"Come in, Josh. Thanks for not asking for details on an open channel."

Kirk gave Young his chair and played all three messages.

"Spock thinks Sam's message may contain a hidden message. Can you check?"

Young's fingers flew over the keys for several minutes.

"Not that," he muttered, and continued to work.

"Nor that, either." Silence, except for the sound of keystrokes.

"Ah, very clever. This is the work of- better not say. The methods used identify the sender to one who knows. Let's see what he sent."

Sam's face disappeared and was replaced by text, but it was all numbers.

"Have you got a pad and stylus?" Young asked.

"Second drawer."

Young copied numbers, scribbled letters under them, crossed them out, and scribbled more letters. After the third try, he seemed satisfied. Kirk saw the word 'T E S T' emerge from all the scribbles. Young then turned back to the screen full of numbers, pulled up a blank page on the pad, and began writing what seemed to be random letters. After some ten minutes of work, he copied the message onto a fresh page.

It was a column of words, but none of them were Standard. Every third word was Klingon.

"Can you read this?" Kirk asked Young.

"I recognize that we have three different languages here, but I can only read one of them. Every third word is in a dialect of my mother's clan. Can you read any of it?"

"I read the Klingon, and Spock tells me that the third is a form of Old High Vulcan, only used by scholars of ancient writing."

"Can he read it?"

"Yes."

It was the work of moments to translate the complete message. The first word in each language was 'danger'. That was followed by two short sentences: 'Lives at risk. Trust no one.' The last line of the message seemed to be nonsense. 'RGNB' - It was not a word in any language.

"Does that mean anything to you, Josh? It looks like another code of some kind."

"It could be initials, or an acrostic, or even a set of random letters used as a password."

"You said you know who sent this. Do you consider him friend or foe?"

"Inconclusive, unfortunately. I know him professionally. In the present situation, it's difficult to be certain of anyone's loyalties, even those you thought you knew."

"Josh, I refuse to think that way. His advice to trust no one is based in fear, and I will not go there. If you trust no one, you will soon find yourself isolated and alone, easy pickings. If we stand together, we can fight off fear, and anything else the devil throws at us. To that end, let me say this. I trust you, Josh. I believe you will care for this ship and her crew in the best way you know how. I refuse to believe that you are my enemy. There may be one or more such still aboard this vessel, but you aren't among them."

"Jim, that mind-link with Spock- Do you automatically know everything he knows? He knows things about me from his melding with me. Does that mean you know them too?" Young seemed slightly anxious.

Kirk tried to reassure him. "No. We each receive the other's thoughts and sensory input, and we can talk back and forth without being anywhere near each other. But his thoughts go by too fast for me to process, and there is no way I will ever know everything he knows." He chuckled in amusement at the idea.

"Then how can you know I am not your enemy? In fact, when I was given this job, I was definitely in the enemy camp. Spock knew that, even before you left at Outpost 67. But he never treated me like an enemy; none of them did. Jim, I became a Christian four months ago. I don't know how to treat enemies as if they are friends."

"Most enemies are driven by fear. If you can overcome the fear, then you can be friends. Occasionally I meet someone who won't let me be a friend. Kadat was such a one. Though, if he had taken me when I offered, perhaps over time, even he would have been won. In each situation, ask the Holy Spirit for direction. I prefer not to risk others as well as myself. Nor do I ignore prudent precautions and behave foolishly, especially where the safety of the _Enterprise_ and her crew are at stake."

They adjourned to Sickbay and held a conference in the room with the regen tank. Kirk unofficially took charge.

"First order of business: the mind-link. Bones, we could do it right here and now. Obviously, I don't want to. But we put the decision in your hands. If we don't do it now, I don't know how soon we'll have another opportunity. But this is hardly what I'd call an ideal situation. So it's your call: now or later?"

"Jim," McCoy looked at him intently. "How does the thought of doing it now make you feel?"

"Very shaky. Not quite hysterical, but holding it together is a real challenge."

"And how would you rate your ability to function with the mind-link in place?"

"The dual input is easier to handle when one of us is stationary, but I'm getting better at compartmentalizing. The constant background of Spock's thoughts isn't a problem; I'm used to that."

"Spock, same questions."

"My ability to function is not impaired by the mind-link."

"And how do you feel about severing it now?"

A shudder ran through Spock's body.

"I cannot afford to think about the answer to that question."

McCoy turned to Young. "Josh, I don't know how much you know about this, but major trauma for a Vulcan is no joke. I vote we put this off until we have more time. They're functioning. Another day, or even two or three, is not going to kill them. Trying to rush this might. It's that serious."

Kirk and Spock both breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Bones. But what I said earlier still holds. When you decide it's time, don't put up with any arguments. And whoever you need to involve in order to enforce that decision, you don't have to ask. Just do it. Okay?"

"I'll do it, Jim. You can count on it."

"Next order of business: how soon is Spock's leg going to be done?"

"At least another hour, maybe two."

"We've got a prisoner in the Brig that's refusing to talk. Maybe the presence of a Vulcan would change his mind."

"I can't rush this, Jim. A partially healed break weakens the whole bone."

"Okay. We'll table that for now. The situation at Starbase 7 is uncertain. There may be a real crisis for which haste is justified. Just as likely, the request for speed is politically based. And we have no way of knowing if it comes from friends or enemies.

"Both Torbet and Konti separately told me that someone within the Federation arranged for my capture by the Klingons in order to be given to the Romulans in cementing an alliance. Having failed, it is not unreasonable to suppose they will try alternate methods of eliminating me. I don't want the _Enterprise_ in the middle of it, if we can avoid it."

"Jim," Young interrupted. "I knew nothing of this. You must believe me."

"Relax, Josh. Of course you didn't know. Most of the people involved in this have only been following orders through legitimate chain of command. They're not enemies."

"I don't think that's true, Jim," McCoy objected. "The saboteur we've got in the Brig was not operating through the chain of command."

"We don't know for sure that he has anything to do with the rest of this mess."

"Entirely probable that he does, given his activity," put in Spock.

"Jim," Young explained, "The arm of Starfleet that I work for is dedicated to various covert operations. Agents typically operate independently, even if more than one is assigned to a particular field. It would not surprise me to find that the _Enterprise_ has been infiltrated by more than one such agent."

"Sounds like we need a senior officers' briefing, but something else just occurs to me. Perón's communication may also contain a hidden message."

Kirk and Young adjourned to Kirk's quarters to examine the message and found that it did, and it was not in code. The bald text read: 'Vultures gather at Seven; you are bait.'

"That settles it. I'm going in alone. I'll take a shuttlecraft. Josh, I want you to keep the _Enterprise_ out of transporter range. We can get Scotty to come up with some believable excuse."

"Jim, if that message means what I think it means, going in at all is asking for trouble. Going alone is suicide!" Young exclaimed.

"To be effective, the bait has to look inviting."

"Jim, vultures eat dead meat."

"But they gather if it looks like there's going to be a meal. Josh, we need to catch them at it. Torbet gave me a couple of names, and Spock's been doing some digging, trying to get recorded evidence on them, but they've been very careful, it seems."

"Catching them in the act doesn't sound like a recipe for survival. Besides, how do you know the real enemies will come out of hiding before you're dead?"

"I don't, but Josh, your job is to keep the _Enterprise_ safe. You can't be worrying about me."

Young sighed. "Jim, you are part of the _Enterprise_, but I will do what you want."

"Thanks, Josh. We better get to that briefing."

xxxx

An hour and a half later, all was in place, the stage set. Kirk and Young were seated at a table in the corner of the Rec Deck, apparently relaxing in casual conversation. Spock had been released from Sickbay and was at the Brig, about to interrogate the prisoner. Uhura was with him, with a recording device. Sulu and Chekov were on the Bridge. Chuck was with Scotty in Engineering. McCoy was in Sickbay.

Suddenly they lost all power. Kirk sat motionless and listened. No sounds of panic, though the Rec Deck was quite crowded at this hour. Within moments, gravity was restored, then air circulation, and finally emergency lighting came on. Young stood and stepped to the intercom.

"Young to Bridge. Report, please."

"_Sulu here, sir. One moment, I'm getting the report from Engineering now._" Pause. "_It seems we have another saboteur, sir._"

"I'm getting to the bottom of this right now. Patch me through to the all-call."

"_You're on, sir._"

"All hands, this is the Captain. We have evidence indicating one or more saboteurs are still at large. If you see any suspicious behavior, regardless of rank, you are authorized to apprehend and hold, using whatever means necessary. All personnel are to report to the hangar deck at once. I repeat, all personnel to the hangar deck immediately. No exceptions. Absolutely, no exceptions. Captain out."

The Rec Deck began a quiet, orderly exit en masse. Kirk spoke in a low voice.

"Spock could use a verbal assist."

Young punched another button on the intercom.

"Young to Security."

"_Wright here, sir. Mr. Spock is-_"

Young cut him off. "Bring an ample supply of weapons. Bring the prisoner along too, well-secured. And allow Mr. Spock to lock down the arsenal to his voice print only."

"_Yes, sir. Thank you, sir._"

xxxx

It took about twenty minutes to gather everyone, take attendance and round up the stragglers. Since they had not used the Red Alert siren, a few slept through the message. Young took a bull-horn and addressed the crowd.

"Since our prior efforts have apparently not been completely successful in rooting out the infiltrators in our midst, we are forced to take more drastic measures. All personnel will submit to a strip-down body search, and a mental probe by Mr. Spock. Starting with senior officers and essential posts. Mr. Sulu, you're first."

Sulu stepped up to Spock and Kirk heard their mental conversation.

*Probe to your heart's content, Spock.* Sulu was laughing.

*I do not need to, Mr. Sulu. Your mind is clean.*

*I don't envy you, Spock. It's going to be a long night.*

Uhura was next. She and Sulu would man the Bridge. Chekov would hold down Life Support. Scotty was next.

*Were there problems in Engineering, Mr. Scott?*

*A few of them suspect. No one saw us do it. They'll keep quiet. It's not the first time we've pulled something like this. Not to worry, Spock.*

After Scotty and two assistants had returned to Engineering, Young declared that he himself was next. Chuck followed him, and then it was Kirk's turn.

*I'll be fine, Spock. Just don't do so much of this that you get exhausted.*

*It will become increasingly difficult with those who are not used to it.*

*Do what you have to, Spock. I'll weather it.*

McCoy had set up a curtained off area for the body searches. Four Security guards were in attendance. Kirk stripped his clothes off in seconds, laying them on the table for inspection. Stepping in front of McCoy's scanner, he lifted his arms wide and grinned, but said nothing.

They had agreed this charade with the senior officers was important to establish to the crew that no one was exempt. Even Spock would submit to the body search. McCoy, Chapel, and the Security guards were next. As soon as he did the first guard, Kirk realized what Spock had meant. There was a fear and defensiveness that Spock had to push past. This response did not indicate guilt, but merely unease with the probing process.

Kirk quickly got tired of hearing Spock say, "Please relax. The probe is not painful. This will be easier if you do not fight me." Most of them didn't know how not to fight it. Partway through the 80 Security guards, Young was called to the Bridge. Uhura needed help fending off irate bureaucrats at Starbase 7. Young's diplomatic skills would be stretched to the limit before this was over, Kirk guessed. They were going to stall at least four hours, possibly a whole day.

When 60 of the guards had passed both tests, they suddenly encountered a problem case.

"I'm not doing that mind-thing," this guard protested. "I'll do the body search, but you can't make me do the other. I know my rights. It's against regulations."

The whole room tensed as they waited to see what Kirk would do about this. But Kirk didn't do anything. Chuck quietly guided the man to McCoy's booth. When he came out of there clean, Chuck quietly asked him again to submit to the mental probe.

"No, you don't have to do this. And it will not appear on your record as a refusal to obey orders. But, as a practical matter, you understand there will be consequences if you do not submit to the probe."

"I ain't no traitor."

"I didn't mean to imply that you were. But the safety of this vessel and her crew are at stake. We cannot take chances."

"I ain't doin' it; you can't make me."

"Very well." Chuck turned to another guard standing by. "Lieutenant, handcuff this man and hold him with the other prisoner. Gag him if necessary."

The last Security guard was a big man, with a kid's face. Kirk took one look and saw fear in that face. Even as he stepped up to help, he heard a whispered, "I can't."

Kirk put his hand on the guy's shoulder, turning him away from Spock.

"Look at me, Ensign. May I pray for you?"

He nodded wordlessly. Kirk prayed for the peace of the Lord to fill the young man's soul. As he prayed, the man continued to stare into Kirk's eyes.

"All right, Spock. Go ahead."

The man hardly blinked, and it was one of the easiest of the 80 so far.

"Thank you, Ensign. You're clean. Join the line over there please," Kirk directed.

"Is that all? I hardly felt a thing!"

"Yes. It's easy when you're not fighting it."

Kirk smiled, and was rewarded with an answering grin. Spock went on to the Engineering crew. Chuck began organizing the Security department to make a fine-tooth-comb search of the entire ship. It would take hours, and it was tedious, but it was necessary.

They'd been at it for two hours when Young asked Kirk to come to the Bridge.

"I've stalled about as long as I can, Jim. Graber is polite on the outside and livid underneath. Sullivan is harder to read. He's upset, but I'm less sure why. Graber has offered to send a tug to pull us in; Sullivan wants to send a shuttle to get you. Neither has made any reference to a crisis on the base. So it looks like you were right about that smokescreen."

"Any sign of unusual activity coming or going?"

Sulu answered. "The usual collection of smaller vessels. Nothing as big as we are, at least not yet."

"What about communications?"

Uhura reported, "In addition to the usual chatter, there's been quite a number of high-security scrambled messages back and forth."

"Jim, are you sure you want to keep up this charade on the hangar deck? I'd rather have a fully-powered vessel to defend ourselves with."

"I know, Josh, but the usual methods of defense won't work with this kind of enemy, unless you're willing to kill friends and foes alike, which I'm not. Spock's already found two among the Security Officers, and that's not counting the one who refused. By the time we're done, we'll know who they are, and they won't know that we know. Then we'll watch them give themselves away in their confidence of our ignorance."

"Excuse me, Captain," Uhura interrupted. "Commander Graber is calling again."

"Tell him we don't need the tow. Power should be restored shortly. And see if you can needle him enough to find out what the rush is," Kirk advised Young.

"Put him on, Uhura." Young sat back in the center seat.

Kirk stepped out of range.

"Good evening, Commander."

"Well, Captain, I gave you the requested twenty minutes. Are you ready to accept assistance now?"

"We appreciate the offer of a tow, Commander, but it will not be necessary. We expect power to be restored shortly. Such a prompt offer of assistance indicates an efficiently run base. You are to be commended, sir. I trust whatever it was that required our prompt attendance has resolved itself. So, other than the crew's desire for shore leave, there really is no reason we cannot arrive tomorrow, rather than this evening. Is that correct, sir?"

"But Captain- no, that is not correct. I was informed you would arrive this afternoon. I have taken considerable trouble to rearrange the dry-dock schedule to allow prompt repairs to your vessel. If you do not arrive until tomorrow, I cannot guarantee available space. Several vessels are already being made to wait. I'm sure you understand my position, Captain."

"Of course, Commander. We'll take our chances with the dry-dock schedule. Expect us when you see us. Young out."

Kirk's analysis was brief. "Somebody's pressuring him to get us there without telling us why."

"Agreed. I expect Sullivan is part of why, but maybe not the whole story. They want you, but they also want the _Enterprise._"

"They can't have her." He paused. "Spock just found another one. He'll be done with Engineering in another hour. Have Scotty start powering up the warp engines. And be ready to give you impulse at the first sign of any approach. Evade capture even if you have to warp out of the system."

Young talked to Scotty, then got an update from Chuck on the search crews. They had begun on the Engineering decks, and had an estimated two more hours to finish the secondary hull area. They had found some odd electronic gear in one crewman's quarters.

"Which one?"

"Parker."

"He's clean. Show the stuff to Scotty. If he clears it, put it back in Parker's cabin and say nothing. But it's possible somebody else stowed it there."

Uhura announced another incoming call, this one from Sullivan.

"Captain Young, I understand you have refused the offer of a tow. It is absolutely essential that I speak with Captain Kirk. Did you convey my offer of transportation?"

"Sir, I must insist on an explanation of the need for haste. Captain Kirk was quite fatigued on his most recently completed mission. Why cannot your conference with him wait until tomorrow?"

"Young, cut the nonsense. Kirk hasn't complained of fatigue in thirty years of missions. In fact, he's probably standing on that Bridge right now. So, get out of the way, and let me talk to Kirk."

Kirk stepped up beside Young. "I'm here, Sullivan, so talk. What can't wait til tomorrow?"

Sullivan took a deep breath and leaned forward. "Kirk, I can't discuss this on an open channel. I'm asking you to believe me. This is urgent."

"Urgent for whom?"

"Look, if you won't come to me, can I come to you?"

"The hangar deck is unavailable at the moment."

"Is your transporter working?"

"Sullivan, we're dead in the water. What do you think?"

"I'll bring an e-suit then."

"You _are_ desperate. All right, you can come. Call when you're fifteen minutes out. We'll have updated instructions. Kirk out."

"Sulu, how long will it take him to get here?"

"Depends how soon he leaves, but I'd guess over an hour, unless he's got a super-fast shuttle. And he might."

"All right, as soon as you see him leave, nudge us just enough to get out of sensor range. Make it look accidental if you can."

"Aye, sir."

Kirk turned to Young. "When he calls, have him pull alongside, and come to full stop. Put a tractor beam on him and transport me over there. As soon as I'm gone, engage evasive maneuvers. I don't expect him to try to track you, but if he does, lose him. Stay as close to the base as you can without being found. Maintain radio silence until Spock tells you otherwise. I mean it, Josh. No matter what you see warping in, stay out of it. They're much less likely to kill me if they don't have the _Enterprise_."

Kirk went back to the hangar deck, and cornered Chuck for a private conference.

"Several things, Chuck. First off, I'll be leaving within the hour. I need somebody who can run the tractor beam and the transporter. I'd rather not pull Scotty out of Engineering right now." He paused. "Spock recommends Roygan. Push him through next, if you would. Second, remember that you are First Officer here. Spock has no more official position than I do. You can defer to him privately, but not in front of the crew. Third, as soon as I leave, Spock's attention is going to be divided. He may slow down, he may need to take a break, or he may have an urgent message for Captain Young. Just be alert and ready to adjust."

Kirk gave Chuck the names of the infiltrators Spock had found so far.

"This'd be easier if I could just lock them up," Chuck complained.

"We need evidence. The mind probe can't be used in court. Just watch them, Chuck. There should be plenty of tense waiting in the next few hours or days. One or more will try to get a message out. When they do, nail them. You can do it, Chuck, I'm confident in you."

Young called to say Sullivan was there. Kirk, Roygan, and two security guards left for the transporter room. Chuck was insisting no one could go anywhere except in groups of three. Kirk said no goodbyes. With a smile, and the simple word, "Energize," he was gone.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Sullivan's shuttle looked like a luxury yacht. Kirk sensed its power through his feet. It would be a joy to pilot this baby. He smiled as he noticed the phaser in Sullivan's hand, pointed steadily in his direction.

"I'm surprised at you, Kirk. You know better than to walk into a trap. And you sensed this one coming. Why did you ignore your gut feel? It's not like you, Kirk."

Kirk continued to smile and said nothing.

"I regret the necessity." He fired the phaser.

As Kirk slumped to the floor, he discovered he was paralyzed but not unconscious. It had looked like a standard-issue phaser. Sullivan stood over him and kicked his knee. He got no reflex response.

"Had to be sure. This is an experimental weapon. Only lasts a few minutes, and only paralyzes the large muscles. You can move your fingers. Try it."

Kirk did. Sullivan was right. He could blink and swallow too. He didn't try to talk, and his face still held a slight smile. Sullivan tied his wrists behind him, hauled him to the copilot's chair, and securely tied him in it. Considerate of him, since Kirk could now see the controls. He could have been left face down in the corner.

Sullivan sat down in the pilot's seat, bid Young a cordial goodbye, and proceeded to head for Starbase 7. He apparently took no notice of _Enterprise_'s departure, though Kirk could see from the display that Sulu was gradually inching away. So Sullivan's interest, at least for the moment, was in Kirk himself. He awaited developments.

About half-way back to the base, Sullivan suddenly warped out of the system, spent about ten minutes in a series of evasive moves, and as suddenly dropped out of warp in the middle of nowhere. Spock knew where he was, just by reading what Kirk saw. Kirk didn't care where, so much as why. This was not what he had expected Sullivan to do.

After bringing the ship to a complete stop, Sullivan turned and faced Kirk. "Now we talk. The stuff should have worn off by now. I didn't tie you so tight you can't move."

"So talk; I'm listening."

Kirk had made no effort to turn towards Sullivan.

"Listen, Kirk, I'm sorry about the restraints."

"No, you're not." Kirk's tone was mild, without accusation or complaint.

Sullivan sighed. "You do know how to make this difficult."

"Am I supposed to make it easy?"

Kirk turned his head and smiled disarmingly. With effort, he used his feet to inch the chair around until he was facing Sullivan.

"Is that better?"

Sullivan stared at him. "Is this what you did to the Klingons?"

"Do what?"

"Play games. Always attack, even if your only weapons are your tongue and a smile on your face."

"Games, yes; attack, no. My apologies, Commodore, it is not my intention to attack you."

"They said you refused to act like a prisoner. Now I know what they meant."

Kirk just waited. Sullivan would eventually get to the point.

"The reason for the restraints is this. I cannot take the risk that you will overpower me and take this vessel to parts unknown, instead of back to Starbase 7."

"Why would I wish to do that?" Kirk opted for a Spock-like mild interest.

"The instinct for self-preservation is universal."

"What is there on Starbase 7 that would evoke such an instinct?"

"Graber has orders to place you in protective custody."

"That's not life-threatening," Kirk scoffed.

"He has similar orders for Spock, Young, and Byrd, and he's to impound the _Enterprise._"

"What's the charge?"

"There's no charge, but rumors are flying about involvement in conspiracy and treason."

"We need protective custody against rumors? You still haven't gotten to the life-threatening part yet," Kirk prodded.

"Among the more substantive rumors is the imminent arrival of several very top-brass officials."

"If they're going to charge us with treason, they'll need top-brass."

Sullivan gave him a hard stare. "You don't sound worried."

"Why are you telling me all this? Why not let us walk in and be taken?"

"Another rumor with substance is that certain parties with official backing do not intend to wait for you to be charged and convicted."

"Lynch mobs went out of fashion a long time ago," Kirk mocked.

"Kirk, the danger is very real."

"I don't doubt it. But you won't kill me just yet."

"You think I'm-"

"Aren't you?" Kirk interrupted.

"Kirk, my orders are to keep you safe."

"Whose orders, if I may ask?" He smiled as if this were mere curiosity.

"Does the name 'Argonaby' mean anything to you?"

"No, I don't believe I know him."

"I was told a message had been sent; it must not have reached you. No matter; it was a warning in very general terms."

Kirk dropped all pretense and demanded some answers. "What are you supposed to keep me safe from, for how long, and how do you plan to accomplish it?"

"I'm trying to keep you alive, for as long as the danger exists. I had thought to leave you on the _Enterprise_, but since you are here, I will hide you on the base."

"Sullivan, you're not a very good liar. If you want any cooperation out of me, start over and tell me the truth."

"What makes you think I'm lying?" Sullivan asked mildly, not apparently offended.

Kirk just stared at him, and didn't bother to punch holes in the story. That it didn't add up was blatantly obvious. After a moment, Sullivan looked down and sighed.

"All right, the truth." He turned earnest eyes on Kirk, and sat forward in his chair. "I am in covert operations. I carry whatever rank fits the operation at hand. My true name and rank are unimportant. When the observation panel reported its findings and Pierce ruled on the case, I assumed the mission was complete. Recent events however, have reopened the file. This time, the issue is not Christianity as a subversive force, but a deep-seated conspiracy within the Federation. Its goal is war with the Klingons and Romulans. It is not for me to judge whether its goal is good or bad. But they are using clandestine methods to incite war, and this cannot be tolerated.

"The cases are related because the conspiracy used the Christianity issue to place you in a position to be seized by the Klingons. I have information that suggests the idea that you were to be used as a valuable commodity in negotiating an alliance between the Klingons and Romulans. I suspect your most recent venture into Klingon space to disrupt a secret meeting was more of the same affair. Did you hear any references to a conspiracy?"

Some of that sounded like truth, but Kirk was a long ways from confiding in this guy. "The term 'traitor' was thrown around a good bit. The Klingon faction was quite divided in their goals. But how does this relate to Starbase 7?"

"It is presumed the conspiracy is behind the treason charge, and probably the protective custody as well. If you can't be found, you can't be charged."

"Why would I wish to run away and hide from such a charge?"

"It's just for a little while, until we can nail the traitors."

Kirk shook his head decisively. "I don't fight the enemy by hiding. And I'm surprised you thought I might. Or maybe you knew I wouldn't, and that's the real reason for the restraints. So, you can hold me against my will, but when this is over, you'll be charged with kidnapping. Or, you can take me in and turn me over to Graber, and we can fight this out in the open."

"Absolutely not. Kirk, this is for your own good. If I turned you over to Graber, you'd be dead within 24 hours. We're doing this my way, and I'm sorry you don't like it."

Abruptly he turned back to the controls. Silence reigned while Sullivan took the craft into dock at the base. The bay looked dark and unused. The reception committee consisted of four masked and armed men, none of whom spoke. They taped his mouth and eyes shut, strapped him to a stretcher, and carried him a long ways. Finally they set the stretcher down and retreated. Sullivan spoke briefly.

"You can't escape, so don't try. There will be two guards watching you at all times. If you move or make a sound, they will fire their weapons. How many phaser headaches do you want?" he mocked.

This was not the treatment Kirk would have expected if Sullivan's story about keeping him safe were true, but he said nothing. Sullivan's retreating footsteps were followed by the sound of a door closing, then sounds which might be the guards trying to get comfortable. If they were sitting, they'd be less watchful than if standing. He'd give it an hour or two, then see. Meanwhile, he gave his attention to what was going on with Spock.

Spock had finished with the Engineering crew and moved on to other departments. He would do Science last. It was the biggest with 150 staff; it was his own department; and most of them filled non-essential positions. Chuck had dismissed the Engineering crew because Security had finished the search of that area. It would still be many hours before the primary hull decks were thoroughly searched.

*Spock, I don't want to distract you, but-*

*I can multi-task, if it does not burden you.*

*If I can't, I'll just take a nap. What I want to know is why don't I trust Sullivan?*

*Undoubtedly intuition, but your real question is, what evidence do I see that supports that intuition? One item is his reference to Argonaby, which is a possible pronunciation of the letters, RGNB, in the message from Cogley. You are unsure whether that message is from a friend, in spite of its courier, Sam. That uncertainty is due in large part to its advice to trust no one.

*A second item is his lie about intending to leave you on the _Enterprise_. The only possible purpose for that lie is to lend the feel of truth to what came after. But the only reason for telling you all that followed was to make you believe he is on your side. You believe the entire purpose of the conversation was an attempt to ascertain how much you know. That is why you did not give him the names of the conspirators.

*Lastly, if he were really working for Perón, he would not be hiding you on a maintenance deck. Bait that is not visible doesn't attract fish. Perón is after big fish.*

*So am I. Next question: if Sullivan is working for the big fish, should I stay here and wait for them to come to me? And if they want me dead, why bother to hide me?*

*They do not know how much you know, or who else on the _Enterprise_ is a danger to them. They will attempt to extract this information from you before eliminating you. On the other hand, it is possible that Sullivan is largely being truthful. Covert Ops may not be aware of Perón's strategy. Agents for the conspiracy probably exist at all levels. Perón may have told no one but you what he hopes will happen here. In any event, regardless of Sullivan's loyalties, they will expect you to attempt escape. If you do not, they might wonder what game you are playing. Better not to raise such questions.*

Kirk waited until Spock was finished on the hangar deck. Neither were certain of the effect on Spock of a phaser charge stunning Kirk. Spock reported to Young on the Bridge. He gave him a concise summary of Kirk's situation, as well as the list of persons he had discovered via the mental probes. There were six altogether, including the saboteur already caught. This was not counting the dozen who had refused the probe. Specialized communication equipment had been found and confiscated. But it had not been found in the quarters of any of the five still at large. Spock returned to his quarters to resume his research.

Kirk moved, ever so slightly. Nothing happened. He flexed all his muscles in systematic order. Still no response. He moved his hands under him, in an effort to get at the knot that bound them. This move made a scratching sound against the fabric of the stretcher. Kirk froze. No response. Had the guards fallen asleep? Listening intently, he heard nothing above the background noise of the machinery in the vicinity. Possible that they could not hear him any more than he heard them. He moved again. And again. Slowly he inched his hands up into the small of his back, where he began exploring with his fingers the knot that held them. Three hours of painstaking work yielded the knot to his fingers, and his hands were free. If he could get a little slack on the rope across his chest, he might be able to wriggle free of the stretcher. But unless it was dark, which he doubted, the possibility of doing it without being seen was slim.

He cautiously slid his left hand out from under him. The door and guards were to his right. His fingers carefully explored the rope. No luck; everything was tight, and no knots within reach. He tucked his hand back in behind his back.

*Spock, any suggestions?*

*You seem to have covered the obvious. There remains the phaser stun question.*

*I could purposely rattle the cage. Irritate them enough to fire. Then we'd know.*

Kirk began throwing his weight back and forth, rocking the stretcher in an attempt to turn it completely over. He heard a yell, gave one more burst of effort, felt the stretcher going over, and the phaser charge hit him before he landed face down. With his own sensory input knocked out, Kirk was immediately aware of Spock's. He felt Spock battling the fog and winning, though not without effort. After several moments, he had it under control.

*I would prefer not to have to do that in public. But I will manage, if necessary. Do not be concerned.*

Spock's research was still inconclusive, so Kirk took a nap. An hour later, Kirk's body began to stir.

*Jim, wake up. Control the body's instinct for motion, lest they put you out again.*

As sensory input returned, Kirk became aware that he was lying face down with the stretcher on top of him. They had not bothered to turn him over then. He flexed each of his muscles and became aware of a bit of slack in the rope. Something was not as tight as it had been. He tried to inch the stretcher lower. It gave a little. He reached out with the right hand, and moved the ropes an inch or so toward his head. But he couldn't reach enough of the ropes to make any significant progress.

He was still trying an hour later when the door opened. Scraping and shuffling of feet, probably the guards. Then footsteps approaching, two sets, he thought. Silence for a moment, then a voice. It was Sullivan.

"I told you to watch him. Come and look at this! See how busy he's been?"

Kirk hadn't been able to move the stretcher more than three or four inches, but apparently, even that much showed.

"Turn him over, and watch yourself. Kirk, don't try anything. There's four phasers pointed at you."

Kirk doubted that, but he got the message. Poised for any opportunity, he remained motionless. Suddenly a hand, probably Sullivan's, reached down and yanked the tape off his mouth. No sound or other reaction from Kirk.

"There's a gentlemen here with some questions, Kirk. I strongly suggest you answer them."

Different voice, mellow, cultured, but somehow cold. "Captain Kirk, I have long admired your record, and wished to meet you. I sincerely regret the present circumstances, but Mr. Sullivan assures me it is absolutely necessary to protect you from harm."

It had a false ring to it. This man didn't care about Kirk personally at all. Indifferently cruel.

He continued. "He also informs me that _Enterprise_ is essential to your survival. So if you would be good enough to tell us where she has gone, or give us the code whereby we may contact her, we will see you safely to your ship and off this starbase. It is not safe for you here, Captain."

Kirk remained silent and motionless.

"I see you do not trust me. Understandable, but unfortunate. I must have your cooperation to ensure your safety. What can I say that will earn your trust?"

_Probably nothing_, thought Kirk.

"Perhaps if I gave you my identity, my credentials. My name is Cosbett, Michael Cosbett. I have been an admiral in Starfleet for twelve years."

He rattled off his history in the Fleet, and Kirk ignored it. This was big fish number one. But he gave no sign of recognizing the name. Or of the fact that it confirmed who Sullivan was really working for. Too bad; Kirk had liked him during their brief encounter in the previous year. Cosbett finished reciting his credentials, and Kirk remained silent. He could feel them studying him.

Finally Cosbett spoke again. "I abhor violence, Kirk, but you _will_ tell me what I want to know. I'll be back."

He and Sullivan retreated to the doorway and Kirk heard snatches of low-voiced conversation. It sounded like Cosbett gave brief instructions and left. Sullivan elaborated on those instructions with specifics, to which the guards objected, not apparently to the prescribed violence, but to the probable results. Kirk heard the last two lines clearly.

"I'm telling you, sir, it won't work. Trying to break him that way is a waste of time."

"Don't argue with an admiral, Lieutenant. Just do it. I'll be back with reinforcements."

Sullivan left and the two guards approached. One spoke.

"Don't make me use this phaser, Captain. You can't avoid this, and putting it off won't make the Admiral any happier. So don't give us any trouble, all right?"

Kirk was tempted to make trouble, just because they expected it. But at first, they didn't give him a very good opportunity. Only one of them came near him; the other undoubtedly held the aimed phaser. So Kirk let them have their way. The rope tying him to the stretcher was released, and they told him to stand up, which he did. They exclaimed briefly over his untied hands, and tried to punish the offense by slapping him in the face.

Kirk let the blow connect, then grabbed the man's wrist, and within seconds had him in a head lock with his arm twisted behind him.

"Cory, you idiot! Kirk, I'll stun both of you if I have to. Let him go."

Kirk released Cory, shoving him in the direction of his companion. He took a step back and raised his hands wide in a gesture of surrender.

"I told you not to make trouble, Captain. That little trick is going to cost you. Get up, Cory. This time be more careful."

Cory recovered himself and carefully secured Kirk's wrists to a couple of overhead anchors. His feet were tied to the stretcher. The upright, spread-eagled position was familiar, but these guys were amateurs compared to Koh. They had not stripped him, so how bad could this get?

Within fifteen minutes, he had revised his opinion of their amateur status. Their technique lacked finesse, but it was pretty effective in its own brutal way. They seldom let him stand upright, preferring to pull the stretcher either out in front of him, or behind him, leaving him hanging by his wrists on a diagonal with the floor. They alternated face-slapping and gut punching, with the application of an odd kind of whip. It stung fiercely, but he didn't think it broke the skin.

After an hour or so, Sullivan returned with two additional men. They abandoned the face and belly punching, and left him standing upright. Instead of one whip, they now had four, two on the front and two on the back. He stood quietly, grateful to give his wrists a rest. He could hear that they were working hard, and he could feel their irritation with him through the force of the blows. But there was no particular reason to show them any reaction to what they did, so he didn't.

Kirk's attention was brought back to the present when they stopped. He heard Cosbett's voice. He must have come in when Kirk hadn't been paying attention.

"Give me that chain. Trust me; he can't ignore this."

Kirk heard him approach from behind. He felt the chain on his head, then felt it slip over his face, and come to rest on his shoulders. Was this what they'd been hitting him with? It was a very fine-link metal chain. Cosbett's voice in his ear was little more than a whisper.

"Tell me where the _Enterprise_ is, Kirk, and we'll leave you alone."

Kirk didn't answer. Cosbett pulled the chain up around his neck.

"You don't want to die, Kirk. Trust me; strangling is not an easy way to go."

He gradually pulled the chain tighter and tighter til Kirk's air supply was cut off. He continued to stand quietly. When he had almost passed out, Cosbett loosened his hold enough for Kirk to get one breath, then he cut it off again. Continuing this technique, he kept Kirk on the edge for some ten minutes.

Understanding this was a battle of wills, Kirk was not about to lose. He did not allow his body to gasp for air, but forced it to calmly take a breath whenever Cosbett permitted it. He did not allow any tension or distress to exhibit itself. Cosbett was not going to kill him, at least not yet. He just wanted him to feel like he was at death's door. As long as he was conscious, he would not give in, no matter how much his body screamed for oxygen.

Finally, Cosbett gave up. He released and removed the chain, came around to the front, and stared at Kirk's face. Kirk took several deep breaths and tried to recover. He had won round one, but sincerely hoped there wouldn't be any more like that.

"Strip off his shirt. And double time those chains."

On bare skin, the intensity was worse and at double the speed, Kirk was actually challenged by the overall effect. But the whole thing was very mild in comparison to the last round with Koh. He stood calmly waiting for them to stop. Cosbett kept them at it for over an hour. Kirk could feel them getting tired.

"Enough," Cosbett ordered. "Give me that."

_Great_, thought Kirk, _here comes round two. Lord, give me Your strength._

To his surprise, Cosbett gave him a dozen vigorous lashes with the chain before coming close. Kirk could feel his anger.

As the chain once again circled his neck, Kirk spoke. "Jesus loves you."

The chain began to tighten.

"Doesn't matter what you do, that love is constant. It conquers fear and hate."

That was all there was breath to say. He added another word or syllable every time Cosbett let him breathe.

"I ... for ... give ... you ... for ... all ... of ... it ... want ... you ... to be ... free ... Jesus ... is the ... answer ... love you ... don't fear ... or hate you ... doesn't ... matter ... what you ... do to me."

Cosbett gave up. Round two was over. Kirk had been so focused on communicating God's love that he'd hardly noticed the battle. _Thank you, Lord!_

"Kirk, I will leave you to contemplate your misery. Give those bruises awhile to develop before we give you a second application. You will break, Kirk, I promise you."

Sound of many footsteps retreating, then the door closing. Kirk began to pray for each of them.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

"Sir?"

The voice was close by and very tentative. Kirk almost jumped in surprise.

"Um- Captain? Can I talk to you?"

"Hey!" It was his companion over by the door. "What are you doing? Get away from there!"

"What can he do? I just want to talk to him."

"You remember what Sullie said: he's dangerous. I'm tellin' you, Joe; get away from him."

But Joe stood his ground. "No, not yet. I'm going to talk to him. Now leave me be, and don't you dare tell on me." There was a hint of threat in his tone.

"You know me. See no evil, hear no evil, say no evil. You do what you want, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Joe turned back to Kirk. "Captain, my name is Finch, Lieutenant, Junior-grade. I've been working for Sullivan for four years now. I won't tell you how many guys he's done this to. Nobody, but nobody, just stands there. Most don't last more than a few minutes. One guy held out for two hours. Do you have no nerves? I've never seen it on bare skin before; you're covered in welts, some of them bleeding. Don't you feel it?"

"Hah! Do you think he'd admit it?" the other guy scoffed. "He's not stupid. First rule of defense: never let them know how much you hurt."

"Dick, you stay out of this. I didn't ask you; I asked him. Captain?"

"My name is Jim. Yes, it hurts, a lot. Why does it matter to you?" Kirk asked quietly.

Joe couldn't deal with that question. "It's just so incredible! How do you do it?"

"Are you asking for a technical explanation of the methods of controlling the body's response to pain?"

"Now you sound like a Vulcan."

"Sorry. I'm just trying to figure out what you're really asking. Does 'how' mean how to? Or why? Or what's the inner driving force of my life? Or what?"

"You would tell me all that? I'm the enemy, remember. I wield the chain whip."

"Joe, you are not my enemy, no matter how many times you hit me with that chain. I could teach you the basic principles of pain management in about thirty minutes. But if that isn't your real question, I'd rather not waste your time."

"Waste my time? You're kidding! I'm going to be here all day. Sullie and them won't be back for four hours. Greg and Cory were mad that they're not going to get to sleep, but Cosbett didn't want to wait the twelve hours Sullie said was best for bruise development. Anyway, we've got several hours, so go ahead and tell me about pain management, 'cause I don't know what my real question is."

Kirk prayed that they would get to the real question before they ran out of time. "May I ask you a question first? Are you not concerned that if you get friendly with your victim, that it may hinder your ability to do your job?"

Joe thought about it a moment. "Yeah, I suppose it might. I started this conversation 'cause I just couldn't believe what I was seeing. What you said to Cosbett at the end there made me think you might talk to me. So if you'll talk, I'll risk it. I want to know what makes you tick."

"Are you sure? Get a mental image of the chain in your hand striking bare flesh. Could you do that to someone you considered friend, not enemy?"

Kirk didn't see Joe shudder, but Dick did.

"Joe! What did I tell you? He's got you hooked already. There's only one way to nip this in the bud."

Kirk heard Dick moving and was not surprised to feel the chain applied to his back. He waited for Joe to join him. But Joe didn't.

"Stop it, Dick. He's just ignoring you anyway."

"That's not the point." Dick came around to confront Joe. "You have to be able to do this. Now stop talking to him, give him a dozen licks, and leave it alone."

Kirk sensed Joe's indecision and prayed for him. But anything he said would just make it worse, so he said nothing and waited.

"No, I will not leave it alone," Joe finally decided. "Dick, you didn't see his face. I'm telling you, this guy has something I've never seen before. I'm going to find out what it is. Yes, it's going to cost me, I can see that now. Whoever heard of a victim being concerned about the torturer's ability to do his job? I'll do what I have to, but you're not going to stop me, so sit down and stay out of it."

Without further protest, Dick retreated.

"Joe," Kirk began, "I will tell you what you want to know, but I am concerned about your job. So I want you to do something for me. Hold the chain in your hand as we talk. Any time I tell you to hit me, I want you to apply the lash immediately, no protest, no hesitation. Will you do that for me?"

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you fighting this battle after the others get here. You must _know_ that you can do it, and the only way to know is to do. Starting right now. Is the chain in your hand?"

"No," Joe admitted.

"Correct that situation, Lieutenant." Kirk put the force of command into his voice.

"Yes, sir."

Kirk heard the chain hit the floor.

"Is the chain in your hand, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, but-"

"Questions later. Now hit me."

Nothing happened.

"Lieutenant, hit me with the chain, now. That's an order."

"But, you can't-"

"No arguments. Do it. Now."

Kirk felt the chain lightly graze his chest.

"That one doesn't count. Do it again."

This time the blow landed, but without much force.

"Again, and put some force behind it."

"Again." and "Again."

"Now take a deep breath and relax. Ordinarily, I would say the first time is hardest. But I know where this conversation is going, and this is not going to get easier. But you need to be able to do this without my having to pull rank on you. Joe, hit me."

"You mean now? Again?"

"Joe, hit me."

"But I just did-"

"The more you protest, the longer this will take. Joe, hit me."

"Aargh!" Joe hit him.

"Again." and "Again." and "Again."

"Thank you. Now before we go on, do you have questions?"

"No, sir."

"My name is Jim. Are you angry with me, Joe?"

"You asked if I would do this, but then you didn't wait for me to answer. You just pushed ahead with it."

"I'm sorry. It was wrong for me to do that. Will you forgive me?"

"Yes, I guess so."

"Can you release your anger about it and let me start over?"

"You mean, I have to do all that again?"

"Joe, I can't force you to hit me. I can only ask. You force yourself to respond. Will you do this for me?"

Kirk heard Joe take a deep breath before answering. "Yes, Jim, I will."

"Joe, hit me."

No verbal protest, but a rather longish hesitation.

"Again."

"Much better. Now the first thing you need to understand about pain management is that you have to know yourself. You have to know and accept what your normal reaction is or you'll not be able to change it. As long as you're keeping secrets from yourself, it'll blind-side you every time. Have you ever felt the chain? Do you know what it feels like?"

"No. Sullie said it was better if we didn't know."

"He's right. So think back on your past experiences of pain. How did you react?"

"I fought back. I've always been that way."

"That's a good thing to know about yourself. So for you, the emotional content associated with pain is anger, rather than fear?" Kirk asked to clarify.

"Yes, definitely. But Jim, why did you ask if I'd felt the chain?"

"Pain management is a skill. Skills require practice. But Sullivan is right; it's better for you not to know. Now the second step in pain management is to get the emotions under control. If you can separate the emotional from the physical response, the battle is half-won right there."

Joe interrupted. "I don't care if Sullie is right. I want to know what it feels like."

"If I had a free hand, I'd oblige you, but I'm rather tied up at the moment."

"That's a joke!" Joe was incredulous. "How can you make a joke of it?!"

"Joe, hit me."

"What!?"

"I told you this would not get easier. Joe, hit me."

"But-"

"Joe-"

"Don't say it! Just let me think for a minute."

"No thinking allowed. It's got to be automatic. Hit me, Joe."

"Rrg! You make me mad. Why do you do that?"

"Questions later. Now you act. Hit me, Joe."

"I hate those words."

"You know what you have to do to stop hearing them. Joe, hit me."

"Why did I ever agree to this?"

"You're up to seven. Want to go for eight? Hit me, Joe."

"All right! Frak you!"

Kirk felt Joe's anger through five lashes. It began to dissipate through six and seven. The eighth was an effort.

"Again."

"But- Rrrrg!" An angry lash.

Kirk demanded three more before he got what he was after: no anger or protest.

"Now, talk to me. Tell me about your emotional responses to all that."

"I was angry."

"And before that?"

"I don't remember," Joe replied a little sullenly.

"You asked how I could make a joke of it."

"And you didn't answer me."

"What was the emotion associated with the question?" Kirk pressed.

"I don't know."

"You were feeling sorry for me."

"That's why you picked that moment to throw it in my face again. But you wouldn't let me be angry either. Why not? I always use anger to carry me through the torture sessions."

"Anger won't last for hours and hours of it. You'll be too tired to be angry."

"Hours and hours? You don't think-" Joe was appalled.

"Yes, I do. Unless he comes up with something different, you're looking at three or four hours, at least. By that time, my chest will be a bloody mess, the smell will sicken you, and you'll have trouble keeping it off yourself. Trust me, anger won't get you through that."

"You sound like you've been through this before."

"I have. More than once. Not with chains though. So it may not get as bloody as I expect. You can hope. Anyway, we were talking about pain management."

"Confidence. Absolute confidence, that's what it is. You're so completely certain. That's what rattles me. It's like the possibility that we're actually going to break you doesn't exist. How can you be that certain?" This sounded like a genuine issue, not just an emotional reaction.

Kirk tried to explain. "Part of it is my experiences of the past year. I've been pushed past where I think the limit is many, many times. I know what it feels like, I know what's on the other side, what it does to me. I have screamed for hours on end til I'm so exhausted, all I can do is whimper. I know what it's like to be shaking-in-my-boots afraid of it. I also know what it does not do to me. No matter how intolerable it feels, it does not disturb the inner core of who I am. That inner unshakable core is what your real question is about. That is what you see and sense that you do not understand. Am I right?"

"Yes."

"Hit me, Joe."

"Not that again!"

"Get past the anger, and just do it."

"Arrg!" But he did.

"Hit me again." and "Again."

"That's better. Not there yet, but better."

"Why are you doing this? And how can you? I mean, concerned about my job doesn't... I know you said it does hurt, but it doesn't seem to affect you. Almost like you're watching from the sidelines, but you can't even see me. This is the weirdest situation I've ever been in."

"I can see how you would feel that way. I didn't create these circumstances, but I'm quite willing to use them. The amount of pain from one lash is only slightly above mere annoyance. It's the cumulative effects of all four going at once that gets interesting, and then there's the residual. That's what they're counting on." Kirk chuckled at the idea.

He went on. "Anyway, it's true that I can't see you, but I can hear you, and I sense some of your emotions through the lash itself. But I think your real question is why would I endure even small pain for you. The answer is that Jesus loves you."

"What's that got to do with it, and how do you know?"

"Jesus is God in the flesh, and I am His agent in this situation. God's love is unconditional. Makes no difference who you are or what you've done. That's why I can stand here and talk to you as a friend, not an enemy. And the fierce throbbing of my back and chest is irrelevant, even though I know you are one of those that caused it."

"Is that because we're just following orders?" Joe wondered.

"No. My response to Cosbett would be just the same. That unconditional love of God dwells inside of me. That's the source of the unshakable core of who I am."

"God's love lives in you. That sounds pretty weird."

"It seems strange to you because it's unfamiliar. But to me, it's very natural. I would have to work at displaying a fear or anger response to this situation. And it would be faked. The truth is, I'm not afraid, and I'm not angry. God's love in me is more powerful than fear and anger."

Kirk talked another two hours. He answered Joe's questions, weaving into it a clear Gospel presentation without being preachy, and continued to intersperse their talk with brief sessions with the chain. Joe got so familiar with the routine, that he could apply the lash on command without interrupting his concentration on their topic of conversation. He was intrigued with the ideas Kirk presented, but he wasn't ready to accept it for himself.

"It's just too weird."

"All right. But if you come to a place in your life where you want change, or events move beyond your ability to cope, I hope you'll remember this conversation. Jesus is real; He loves you; and He'll always be ready for you. All you have to do is ask Him in, and He'll come.

"There's something else I want to make sure you understand. No matter what happens in the hours to come, I do not harbor any anger against you. Regardless of what it looks like, my heart is full of love, and that love is freely given to you. When the others get here, my attention is likely to be focused on Cosbett. But just because I'm not talking to you doesn't change how I feel about you."

Cosbett and the others arrived about twenty minutes later. They'd brought food for Joe and Dick. Kirk could smell it. He'd had nothing, not even water, since he left the _Enterprise_. He listened to them eating and smiled in amusement. Unlikely that Cosbett had any tricks he hadn't encountered before. Suddenly footsteps approached and he felt an injection on his neck. Momentarily surprised, he guessed immediately what this was. Within thirty seconds, his guess was confirmed. He started talking.

"The truth drug has one serious flaw. You can only force me to say what I am actually thinking. You cannot control my thoughts."

He began reciting his arsenal of Scripture verses. "In all things, I am more than a conqueror through Him who loves me. Nothing can separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus my Lord. My God supplies all my needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus. I press on toward the goal-"

Cosbett interrupted. "Where is the _Enterprise_?"

"I don't know. I count everything as loss because-"

"How do I contact the _Enterprise_?"

"You can't. -because of the surpassing worth of-"

"Where is Spock?"

"On the _Enterprise_. -of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord."

The questioning continued, interspersed with Scripture. Cosbett learned very little real information, because Kirk allowed himself only two or three words on that thought before redirecting his mind back to the Scripture. Cosbett's anger and frustration were obvious, but Kirk couldn't afford to focus on that. Nor could he focus on the passage of time.

At some point, they started in with the chains again. The questioning continued, and both he and Cosbett ignored the chains. To any question concerning the _Enterprise_, he responded, "_Enterprise_ is home." About Spock, all he would say was, "Very special friend." Any question about Young, "I trust Josh." Concerning Cosbett himself, "Jesus loves you."

They gave him another injection. This one slowed down his mental processes, so that it felt like wading through a swamp to put any coherent thought together. He abandoned the Scripture verses and resorted to a simple litany: "God loves me. Praise Jesus! Thank you, Lord!" He completely tuned out Cosbett's questions. Since he didn't hear them, he didn't have to resist answering them. His slow-motion praise litany went on for a long time.

He came out of the mental fog to realize he had stopped talking. So both drugs had worn off. He listened carefully, but heard nothing. Had they left? Maybe and maybe not. He took a deep breath and took stock of his physical condition. A bit tired, mouth dry, chest, back, and arms loudly protesting. His pants felt wet at the waist, so he was probably bleeding. No shock symptoms, so he was fine.

*Spock, did I give anything away?*

*No, Jim, we are secure.*

*Now what?*

*They left some time ago. Some argument about that second drug. They expected it to penetrate your defenses. Cosbett is highly annoyed that it did not work.*

*What are they going to do now?*

*Uncertain. I do not believe they will kill you, but perhaps I am overly optimistic. Dr. McCoy is hovering, though he knows there's nothing he can do. Captain Young is fighting impatience. Waiting is hard. Chuck has been pestering me for your location.*

*He's supposed to be busy catching infiltrators. Any luck there?*

*Only one took the bait. He is in custody. The other four are making no moves.*

*Do they know we know?*

*They merely suspect, and are taking no chances. Their goals are longer-term than the present crisis. Had not First shown me how to slip in below the consciousness, they would know that I know. Even so they wonder, and do not understand why I do not expose them.*

A voice interrupted them. "Jim?" It was Joe.

"Yes, Joe. How are you?"

"I'm okay, I guess. Tired. You were right, you know. It's a bloody mess all right, and it was almost three hours straight. Everybody was mad at you: Cosbett for thwarting him, the guys because you were making us work so hard. But I couldn't get angry; it just wasn't there. Instead, I heard those three words in my head, over and over again: 'Hit me, Joe.' Those three quiet words held the power to keep me going, even through the double-time."

"I'm glad. I didn't know you went to double-time. I wasn't paying attention to the chains at all."

"That's what made Cosbett so mad. You have as much control over your mind as over your body. He was spittin' mad when he left. He couldn't believe you could defy those drugs."

"I wasn't defying them. The drugs don't tell you what to think."

Suddenly the door burst open with a crash. Kirk heard pounding feet, a yell, and phaser fire. Thuds of bodies falling, then silence.

"Oh my God! What have they done to you!?"

"I take it, it looks pretty bad."

"You're conscious! We'll get you cut down from there in a minute, Captain."

"Do the feet first, or I'm liable to fall over."

"Is that a stretcher? Bob, call in the medics. I don't know how to describe this. Just get 'em here."

"Belay that order. I don't need a medic team."

Kirk's feet were free and he gratefully stood up straight. Truth be told, he _was_ feeling a little weak, but he was determined to walk out of there.

"Captain, you outrank me, but I'm not entirely sure that you are in full command of your senses. You _do_ need medical attention."

"Maybe so, but I can walk. I don't need the stretcher."

One hand was free and Kirk carefully lowered it to his face and peeled the tape off his eyes. He asked the Lord for functioning eyes, as he blinked them several times. By the time his other hand was free, he could see.

Staring him in the face was Randy. Joe's body was on the floor between them. Kirk stepped off the stretcher and turned to survey the room. Four others were on their feet; two other bodies on the floor: Dick and one of theirs.

"Thank you very much for the rescue, gentlemen. This one's Joe; that's Dick over by the door. If you get a chance, talk to Joe about Jesus. He thinks I'm too weird. He'll relate better to you guys. Dick heard the whole conversation, but I've no idea what he thinks. Oh, and if you want to know what caused this damage, they're each carrying a long chain used as a whip."

Seeing his uniform jacket and shirt in a corner, he stooped to pick them up and caught a glimpse of his chest. It did look awful, but he was not about to tell these guys how awful it felt. Willing the dizziness to pass, he turned again to Randy.

"You want to tell me where Sickbay is, or shall I wander around til I find it?"

"Captain, I regret this, but I have orders to place you in protective custody."

"Custody that was supposed to prevent this sort of thing?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

"It's not your fault, Randy. How did you find me anyway?"

"An anonymous tip."

"Really. These guys struck me as pretty careful. I wonder who made a mistake."

"I don't know. The message was received by Graber. Gave your name, deck, and sector. All we had to do was check the infrareds, and we knew exactly where you were. I'm sorry we didn't get here sooner, but that message was received only thirty minutes ago."

"I'm okay, Randy, really I am. It looks worse than it is. I'll just hang around here til you're ready to go. We can stop by Sickbay on the way to the Brig."

Randy left Derek to oversee the disposition of the three who were out cold. Kirk mildly protested the need for that many guards.

Randy grinned. "Appearances must be upheld, Captain. Think of it as an honor guard. Besides, for all I know, you may keel over and have to be carried."

Kirk ignored the stares of the few they met in the corridors. Randy and Bob led the way, Steve and Gil held up the rear. Kirk concentrated on making it all the way there, grateful he wasn't still having to deal with Spock's broken leg. The nurse in Sickbay took one look, turned pale, and immediately became very solicitous. Kirk tried to contain his irritation, aware that it was a by-product of the pain. She would have put him on a stretcher. He refused. She was flustered.

"Have you ever had any Vulcans in here?"

"Yes, occasionally."

"Well then, just pretend I'm a Vulcan, and we'll get along just fine."

"I see. If you would come this way then."

"Come on, Randy. You can make sure I mind my manners. The rest of you guys can wait here."

The nurse paused by intensive care, and then opted for an ordinary outpatient surgery. Kirk leaned against the diagnostic table. She was about to protest.

"If you'll look at my back, you'll see why I'm not going to lie down. Just get us somebody to clean up the mess, and we'll be on our way."

She left. Less than five minutes later, the doctor entered. He made note of Randy's presence, then gave his attention to Kirk. He halted in mid-stride and just stared. Kirk stood up, raised his arms over his head and turned slowly around to give the doctor a view of the total damage.

"Susie said it was a mess, but- what caused this?"

The doctor was in motion again, running a scanner over Kirk.

"Chain whips. You can clean it up, spray it with disinfectant, and bandage it. But that's all. No pain medication. I'll sign whatever forms I have to. The only reason we're in here at all is 'cause Randy insisted. I would've taken a shower and left it open to the air for a couple of days, and it would be fine."

"No pain medication? I don't even want to touch it without anesthetic. And the scanner shows extensive bruising." He paused to stare at the scanner. "There's some odd readings on your brain waves."

"Dr. McCoy is monitoring that. It has nothing to do with this. I had it before I left the _Enterprise_. It's nothing to worry about. He said I'd be fine."

"The _Enterprise_? You must be-"

"Sorry I didn't introduce myself. Jim Kirk, pleased to meet you."

"Doctor Royce." They shook hands.

"All right, given who you are, I'll agree to the ban on pain medication under two conditions, neither of which require your signature. First, if you jerk or even so much as twitch, I'm putting on a local anesthetic. Second, you take some pills with you. Those bruises are going to feel a whole lot worse in the next twelve hours."

"Save the pills for somebody who needs them. And I promise you, not a twitch, and trust me, I know what this is going to feel like."

"You are stubborn. We'll see if you're as stubborn by the time I'm done. I don't envy Dr. McCoy. Are you always like this?"

"Usually worse. I'm trying to be polite. You should hear Bones and I arguing about general anesthesia."

Kirk grinned, Dr. Royce shrugged his shoulders, and gave in. Thirty minutes later he was done. True to his word, Kirk had remained completely motionless, except as requested. He and Randy had caught up on the news around Starbase 7, especially as regards the Christian movement started the previous year. It had spread throughout base personnel. There was a thriving Christian community here, in spite of Graber's efforts to discourage it.

"That's the last of it. Bandages ought to be replaced daily, but I'll let Dr. McCoy see to that."

"Thanks, Doctor, I appreciate it. If I'm still on base tomorrow, I'll let you know."

They exited, picked up the other three guards, and made their uneventful way to the Brig. Joe and Dick were already there. Kirk got a cell to himself.

"Captain, I'm really sorry about this."

"Randy, stop apologizing. I know who you work for. It's not your fault. And stop calling me 'Captain'. We're not exactly polite strangers."

"All right, Jim. It's just that this move is very unpopular in certain circles. Some even suggested I should refuse to obey this order."

"Tell 'em I said to get off your back. It's not even Graber's fault. He's obeying orders too."

"Thanks, Jim. It helps that you understand. If you need anything, just holler."

"Actually, several glasses of water would be a kindness. I'm rather dehydrated."

"Why didn't you say something? How long were you down there anyway?"

"About twenty-four hours."

"Water first. Then a meal. Then you can sleep."

"Thanks, Randy."


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

About an hour later, Kirk was trying to sleep, but certain things about this were nagging for attention.

*Spock, I'm tired. I'm not thinking straight. But something about this doesn't add up. I should feel safe, and I don't. Why not?*

*Nowhere on that base is safe for you, least of all the Brig, where anyone and everyone knows exactly where to find you.*

*Right. How could I have forgotten that? But I didn't come here to be safe. So, I can expect to be snatched from here at any time, possibly killed outright, but probably not here in the Brig. It's too public a place.*

*The other item wanting consideration is that anonymous tip resulting in your rescue. The timing seems just a little too convenient. And the likelihood is remote that an outsider saw enough to report your name and location. Much more likely that either Cosbett or Sullivan sent that message. Unable to get you to talk, they may hope you will now feel safe enough to tell Graber, or even Randy, what you would not tell them.*

*Did I give away anything to Randy?*

*You didn't even tell him what went on down there. Beyond an understanding that someone has ordered Graber to hold you in custody, Randy may know nothing.*

*Okay, keep my mouth shut, and wait to see what happens. Any news on the _Enterprise_?*

*No.*

*If nothing happens here in the next 24 hours, Young can get close enough for a brief sensor report. I'd like to know who all is here. But I don't want to know bad enough to risk having _Enterprise_ get caught. And now, I'm going to try to sleep.*

Kirk slept for ten hours and woke rested. Delightful. Moving, however, was a real challenge. Fortunately, the bruises were mostly on his upper body. Once he was on his feet, locomotion wasn't difficult. After breakfast, he did a series of stretching exercises, then calisthenics, then more stretching. By this time the bandages were soaked in blood from reopened wounds. So he took a shower and discarded the bandages. Shortly before lunch time, Dr. Royce appeared at his door.

"Come in, Doctor. How are you today?"

"The more important question is, how are you?"

"Two meals, ten hours of sleep, I'm fine. How does it look?"

"Actually, not bad, considering."

"I took the bandages off in the shower this morning. My exercise had reopened the wounds; but it's more important that I be able to move, than that I not bleed."

"No shock symptoms, either last night or this morning?" Royce was running the scanner.

"Nope. I'm fine. Rebandage it if you must, but I heal faster without."

"All right, I'll leave the arms and just tape the torso. And we'll see how you are tomorrow."

After lunch, Randy appeared at his door.

"I'm to take you to Graber's office."

Kirk half-expected something to happen in the corridor, but it didn't. Randy left him at the door. Kirk recalled the last time he'd been here, and wondered if Graber was any more open now than a year ago. From Randy's comments, probably not.

"Good afternoon, Commander. I understand you wanted to see me."

"Yes, Captain, sit down. I must apologize for allowing you to come to harm. Dr. Royce's report of your injuries is quite condemning. That we let this happen is most unfortunate. I had no reason to distrust Sullivan, but whatever happens here is my fault. It goes with the territory."

"What has Sullivan done to earn your distrust?"

"Why- I assumed you knew. Instead of providing you transport to the base, he kidnapped you, held you in secret, and tortured you. How could you not know that?"

"Why did he torture me?"

"I don't know. You were there. Are you telling me you don't remember?"

"It is rather a blur. The mind chooses to forget unpleasantness. Anyway, that's over and done with. What did you want to see me about?"

Graber was momentarily taken aback by Kirk's casual dismissal of something he thought was a major issue. But he recovered himself and went on.

"Yes, well, um- I wanted to be sure you understand the reason you are being detained. Sullivan and perhaps others are still at large. We do not want any repetitions of this kidnapping incident. You see, we have reason to believe there is a conspiracy. I received word that you are a prime target. Officials believe it is because of something you know. Are you sure you don't remember any of the questions they asked you?"

"I seem to recall they wanted to know where the _Enterprise_ was, though why they thought I should know, I'm not sure."

"So you don't know? She was expected yesterday and did not appear. Dry-dock space for repairs was urgent, I thought."

"Maybe she got emergency orders to attend to something else. That happens sometimes. I wouldn't worry. It's not your problem."

Kirk continued to play dumb as Graber waltzed around certain subjects, probing for information. Kirk didn't give it to him. Finally Graber gave up and called Randy to escort Kirk back to his cell. Nothing happened to disturb the return journey either. Randy was again apologetic about having to detain Kirk.

"I really regret this, Jim, but I don't have sufficient justification for disobeying orders. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, Randy. It's true that I wouldn't handle it this way, but I'm not going to disobey orders either. Graber thinks there may be a further attempt to abduct me. Randy, I don't want any of you guys to get hurt on my account. I won't tell you to just let them have me, 'cause I know you won't do that. But be careful."

"I understand your concern, Jim, but we can handle this. No one's going to get at you in here; trust me."

"I trust you to do the best you can with the men and equipment you have. But Randy, the idea that it's not possible to break in here and take me is ridiculous, and you know it. But I'm not going to lose any sleep worrying about it, and if it happens, I'm not blaming you for not preventing it. Okay?"

"Okay, Jim, and thanks."

"You're welcome, Randy."

xxxx

Kirk woke from a sound sleep in the middle of the night.

*It is 0208, Jim. Sensory input indicates a loss of power, uncertain how widespread. Imminent abduction is probable.*

Kirk lay motionless and waited. Footsteps approached. He opened his eyes and saw shadows as they entered his cell. With a phaser against his head, Kirk did not resist. They didn't bother with the eyes, but taped his mouth, trussed his hands and feet, tied him on a stretcher, and departed. It was done in less than three minutes.

Within five minutes, power was restored, and they took to the access tunnels. The stretcher was designed to be strapped to the ladder and lowered by cable. Not possible that they didn't know that. But instead, they dangled him in mid-air, lowering him by hand, occasionally banging his body against the ladder. He acquired a few more bruises, but they could not make him fear falling. His trust in the Lord was absolute.

He kept his eyes open to give Spock as much input as possible on where he was being taken. But it turned out to be unnecessary. He recognized Sullivan's yacht as soon as they boarded.

*Spock-*

*I concur.*

xxxx

"Spock to Bridge. Captain, he is being taken off the base. Sullivan's vessel will launch in minutes. Move within sensor range on my mark. This may be a play to get us to reveal ourselves."

xxxx

*If that were the case, then somehow they know about this link.*

*It is possible. That contest was broadcast to the Rec Deck.*

Kirk's stretcher was left in the middle of the deck. Sullivan took off his mask, looked at Kirk briefly, and took the controls. The others left their masks on; one took the copilot's chair; the rest stood at the back. The pre-flight checks were done in minutes and Sullivan launched the vessel.

xxxx

"Mark."

"Sulu, keep it brief. Martin, Chekov, you'll have only seconds."

"I've got a wessel, sir, small, fast, just launched, heading 297 Mark 3."

"Registry on two other vessels, sir, in close orbit. One moment. First vessel, _USS Respond_; that's Admiral Perón's flagship. Second vessel, _USS Milano_, Captain Jordan; current mission," he paused, "ferry duty for Admirals Cosbett and Pellinger."

"Sulu, get us another look."

"_Milano_ moving to overtake smaller vessel. _Respond_ still in orbit."

"Young to Spock. You'd better get up here."

"_On my way._"

By the time Spock arrived on the Bridge, he and Kirk had discussed the situation. Young turned as Spock emerged from the lift.

"What does Jim want us to do, Spock?"

"Nothing. Previous orders stand. I am sorry, Josh."

Young placed a clenched fist on the armrest of his chair. Spock took a vacant seat on the upper deck, and sighed.

"We understand your concern and your frustration. But we must not frighten the fish away. We need supportable evidence, which we do not yet have. Nor do we wish to be forced into firing on the _Milano_. You understood from the beginning that the greatest moment of danger exists when the fish admits the truth behind all the subterfuge." Pause. "Sullivan's vessel is docking with the _Milano_."

xxxx

*How big a vessel is this? Not big enough for a hangar deck apparently.*

*Crew of forty. Entirely possible that all are agents for the conspiracy.*

*But we don't know that, so we're not making any assumptions.*

Kirk heard the airlock clear. Sullivan exited first; two of the others picked up the stretcher.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain?"

"Granted."

"Sirs, I have brought the prisoner as ordered."

"Why aren't his eyes taped?" It was Cosbett's voice.

"It seemed unnecessary at this point, sir. However, we can correct that now, if you wish." Sullivan was polite and deferential, but not overawed.

"Don't bother." This was a different voice, tired. Resigned to the necessity of killing him perhaps.

"We've made preparations on Deck 9." It was the captain's voice. "This way."

There was no effort made to conceal the cavalcade from the crew. Possibly they were all in on it. Just as possible they'd been told he was guilty of treason, had some dark secret they must have, etc. And with two admirals and a commodore on board, no one would be asking questions or looking too closely at the proceedings.

Kirk almost laughed when he saw the room they put him down in. It was a free-fall court. The padded walls, oversized ceiling, and control panel by the door were unmistakable. Sullivan's four lieutenants took off their masks at a word from the voice Kirk was assuming was Pellinger.

"He's not leaving here alive, so it doesn't matter what he sees. Now untie him. You heard me; take off all the restraints."

They did, reluctantly. Kirk stood up, glanced around the room, and focused on Pellinger.

"Look around, Kirk. This is your tomb. Scream all you want. No one will hear you. And even if they did, you would be ignored. They've been told you are a traitor, and we will be using drastic means to extract essential information."

Kirk was suddenly alarmed for Sullivan's lieutenants. Were they to be killed also?

Pellinger continued. "I will not pretend to abhor violence, or any such nonsense. I enjoy violence. I have surrounded myself with men who enjoy violence. Cosbett here is a bit of a sissy. He said you wouldn't talk. All men talk; it's just a matter of finding the right trigger."

"It would help this charade if I had some idea what it is I'm supposed to not tell you." Kirk put just a little contempt into his body language.

"A charade?! What makes you think I'm not serious?"

"All this talk of violence and killing. If you were really going to do it, why talk about it, and why have witnesses? Assuming you're entitled to that uniform you're wearing, why throw it all away for the privilege of killing one displaced and misplaced captain? Because, of course, you can't get away with it," Kirk scoffed.

"I am entitled to wear this uniform. I earned it, the hard way. You had it given to you, and then had the audacity to throw it away."

"My loss, your gain. So you outrank me. I presume there's a name that goes with the title, Admiral." Kirk was pretty sure he knew, but wanted confirmation.

"Admiral Joseph B. Pellinger III. The military has been in my family for generations. Allow me to introduce the other members of your execution squad, Captain. Admiral Michael Cosbett on my right. Commodore William Sullivan on my left. Captain Buzz Jordan by the door. Commodore, you can introduce your lieutenants."

"If you don't mind, Admiral, they'd prefer to remain anonymous," Sullivan requested.

"I do mind. The Captain has a right to know."

Kirk shook his head. "I'll pass, Admiral. Thanks anyway."

"Back to the point then. I am deeply serious, Kirk. You will talk. And as for not talking about the violence, that's half the enjoyment."

"Why?"

"Think of it as solving a puzzle. If we talk about it long enough, your body will tell me how to make you talk."

"Don't bet on it. Anyway, what do you want me to tell you? There's a remote possibility that I'd be willing to talk without all the violence." What Kirk needed was for Pellinger to admit to the existence of the conspiracy and his involvement in it. Unlikely that he would simply volunteer the necessary information, but it didn't hurt to ask.

"What fun would that be? No, I think not. You know that as soon as you tell me, there's no more reason for me to keep you alive. Even you are subject to the instinct for self-preservation."

"I've been ignoring that instinct for years. Why stop now? But the sooner you tell me what this is all about, the sooner we can get on with it."

"All in due time, Captain. First we talk about pain."

"I doubt if you can tell me anything on that subject I don't already know."

But Pellinger was not to be denied. He began a discourse on the subject that went on for a good half hour. Interspersed between academic facts on the subject were a wide variety of graphic descriptions of different kinds of pain. Throughout the monologue, Pellinger studied Kirk intently. He stared right back at him, with an amused half-smile on his face. The only thing Pellinger would get from his body language was that he wasn't afraid of any of it. Finally Pellinger wound down and turned to Sullivan.

"I think a little softening up is the first step."

Sullivan ordered his lieutenants. "Don't break his jaw, or knock him out."

Four to one odds with competent fighters was no joke, but Kirk was not going to make this easy. He picked up the nearest man, who happened to be Joe, and threw him into Greg and Cory. Dick jumped him from behind; he threw him over his head into the far wall. Greg and Cory had recovered and were approaching warily. He stepped in close, delivered a gut punch to Greg, and downed him with a chopping blow to the neck. Meanwhile Cory pounded his back. He turned and backhanded him across the face.

Dick and Joe had regrouped and attacked together, each grabbing for an arm. He slipped from Joe's grasp, and turning his back on Joe, delivered two punches to Dick, one in the jaw, one to the solar plexus. Joe tackled his legs from behind and they both crashed to the floor. Before he could free himself from Joe, Cory jumped on his back, and tried to grind his head into the mat. He kicked Joe off, got his hands under him, threw Cory off, and attained his feet.

"Enough!" It was Cosbett. "We're not here to witness a brawl."

The lieutenants slowly got to their feet and backed off.

"Pellinger, quit playing games and get on with it. You said you could make him talk. So tie him up and do this right."

"There's no glory in fighting an opponent who's tied hand and foot. But I wouldn't have called this a brawl. Nobody was fighting dirty. It almost looked like an exhibition. How come, Kirk?"

"Maiming isn't my style. I've got nothing against these guys. But if they're going to beat me up, they'll have to work harder than that."

Pellinger stepped closer, and Kirk could see that he was invigorated by watching the fight. He almost pranced, as he inspected each of them. Greg undoubtedly had a headache, and was looking a bit sheepish that he'd been bested so easily. Cory looked sullenly angry, but he was virtually uninjured. Dick was fighting mad. Joe wouldn't look up at all.

Pellinger stepped in front of Kirk, and without warning, slapped him in the face. He did not react. Fighting the lieutenants was one thing; fighting Pellinger, something else entirely. Pellinger slapped him again, obviously disappointed in the lack of response. Two gut punches and another face slap later, Pellinger gave up and retreated to regroup.

He paced the floor, talking to himself. "You'll fight them, but you won't fight me. You won't fight dirty, but neither will they. I wonder why not?"

He moved to each of them and asked. Greg said he hadn't had a chance. Cory said he didn't know. Dick begged for another chance. Joe hesitated, then looked the admiral in the eye.

"It's because he stood for the chain whipping. We respect him, sir."

"The chains, is it? You had him tied, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir. But he just stood there. No one does that. You didn't see it, sir."

Pellinger returned to his pacing, then stopped in front of Kirk. Holding eye contact, he spoke to the lieutenants.

"Have you got those chains?"

Not a flicker of apprehension in Kirk's eyes as they replied in the affirmative.

"Strip him."

Kirk shed his clothes without being forced.

"Rip off the bandages."

"Anybody got a knife?" Kirk inquired.

Greg stepped up to his back, slit the bandage up the spine, ripped it off in one spinning motion, and threw it on top of his clothes. Skin had come off with the bandage, leaving the wounds raw and bleeding. Kirk continued to stare at Pellinger, as he rested his hands on his head.

"Now we'll see if you stand still for this."

Kirk did, for over an hour. It was Cosbett that stopped it. Pellinger and Kirk had stared at each other in silent aggression the whole time.

"Enough. This is a waste of time. I told you this didn't work. Neither did strangling him, or the talk drug. Pellinger, if you haven't got something completely different, you're never going to break him. Look at him. He's completely unrestrained, and he hasn't moved an inch. He has to be in agony. Does it show? Not a flicker. Nerves of steel, and the same kind of mind. So what have you got that will break that? It better be good."

Pellinger broke off and resumed pacing. Kirk lowered his hands to rest on his hips. The lieutenants were glad to take a break. As Kirk watched Pellinger, he decided Cosbett was actually the more dangerous of the two. Pellinger liked a fight; Cosbett would order him killed without a second thought. He had no idea where Jordan fit into this, and Sullivan was still a bit of a puzzle. He would have expected him to take a more active role, but he merely observed and said nothing.

*Spock, they're not going to say anything until they break me.*

*Make it believable, Jim.*

*Scene 7, Take 23. Here we go again.*


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Pellinger took an odd object from his pocket and began opening it up. After a few moments, it took on the shape of a head device of some kind. Kirk gazed at it and subtly changed his body language to mild apprehension. Cosbett noticed immediately.

"Look, he's afraid of it."

Pellinger turned eagerly towards Kirk.

"I told you I don't know where the _Enterprise_ is. I left her day before yesterday. She could be anywhere."

"But she's not. She's in the vicinity of Starbase 7."

"Possibly. Even probably. But I can't tell you what I don't know."

"There are some things you do know."

"Like what? That two of my best friends are Klingons?"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"It figures you wouldn't believe that. So what do you want me to tell you?"

Kirk allowed his voice to take on an edge of irritation. Then a slightly exaggerated effort to relax.

"He really is afraid of this. How delightful!"

Pellinger positively beamed. He took a step closer and waved it in Kirk's face.

"I got this from a renegade Romulan. They have their uses. Guaranteed to make anyone talk, he said. Of course, the victim isn't much use afterwards. You'll keep your wits long enough to spill everything you know though. He promised it doesn't destroy your brain for several hours."

Cosbett wasn't entirely sanguine about this. "You're trusting a Romulan's word?"

"Of course not! You think I am a fool?"

_Yes_, thought Kirk, _he does._

Pellinger continued. "I required a demonstration, I insisted he put it on himself, and," he paused for effect, "I put it on myself. Believe me, it does work. Feels like fire racing up and down the nerves, and the head positively explodes in agony. And that's just the first thirty seconds."

He watched Kirk lick his lips and shift his feet, and he smiled wickedly.

"You sure you don't want to talk, Kirk?" He pulled a remote control switch from another pocket. "I have half a dozen variations on it, each worse than the one before."

"How can I talk if I don't know what you want to know?" Kirk put just a touch of whining into his tone.

"Oh, but you do know, Kirk. I'll give you exactly one minute to think about it."

_This part is tricky_, thought Kirk. He remembered his fear of Room A and the wires in the back, transferred that feeling to this device, and flicked his gaze back and forth between it and Pellinger's eyes. The feeling became so vivid that he actually _was_ afraid of the device, and he allowed it to be so. Shaky legs, sweating palms, pounding heart, dry mouth - he allowed Pellinger to see it all, before making an attempt to control, only partly successful, which Pellinger also saw.

"Last chance, Kirk."

"I don't know." Kirk made it little more than a hoarse whisper.

A shudder ran up and down Kirk's body as Pellinger fastened the device to Kirk's head. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, as if willing himself not to react to this.

Pellinger chuckled. "I told you your body would give you away. You didn't believe me, but it works every time. The body can't lie."

_Oh yes, it can_, thought Kirk. _The challenge is to make the lie believable._

Pellinger addressed the lieutenants. "Get those chains attached to his wrists. Let him do whatever he wants, except rid himself of the device."

_Sorry guys_, thought Kirk. _This is going to get ugly._

The lieutenants would have pulled his arms taut. Pellinger wouldn't let them.

"No, keep it loose. I want him to move, all over the room even. Only if he tries to pull off the device do you yank his hands away. I don't want him to have anything to push against, nothing to help him control it. His body's going to go nuts; let it. Let it drive him absolutely crazy."

Kirk closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When the agony arrived, he let his eyes pop open wide, his mouth spread in a silent scream, his body jerk and convulse at random. After the initial shock, he reined it under control, apparently with considerable effort. Within five minutes, he was again standing motionless, but rigid with tension, his fists clenched. He opened his eyes and stared at Pellinger, trying for the silent aggression. But he couldn't keep the shuddering of his body invisible.

Pellinger laughed. "You know, that's really very good. I wonder how long you can keep that up."

_Long enough_, thought Kirk. Actually, the initial level wasn't quite as bad as Koh's equipment. But Kirk was under no illusions about it staying this easy. Sure enough, Pellinger hit a button. Immediately the character of the pain changed. Instead of fire, this felt more like millions of needles. He let the surprise show on his face. But while different, the intensity wasn't really worse, so he showed very little effort to get it under control. He even allowed himself to really relax twice, though only briefly, before being overtaken again by the jerks.

"So, you don't think that is as bad. How about this?" And he hit another button.

A cross between a pile driver and a tidal wave. Kirk bent over and reached for his head. Right on cue, the lieutenants yanked his hands out to the sides, and Kirk fell to his knees.

"Let him go. Let him move," ordered Pellinger.

Kirk tried, with clenched fists, to get to his feet. Twice he fell; the third time, he managed it, but couldn't stay there. He took several staggering steps and fell over. He lay on his face, slowly pounding the floor with fist and foot. Pellinger turned it off, and Kirk slowly got to his feet. He took a deep breath and turned to stare at Pellinger. He noted in passing that Cosbett was no longer looking bored and frustrated.

"Well, Kirk are you ready to talk?"

"What about?"

Pellinger turned on the fire and needles at the same time. Kirk gasped, convulsed, and began clawing his arms and stamping his feet. He clasped his hands to the opposite arm to keep them from ripping new wounds in his skin. He jerked and convulsed, shook and jittered his way all over the room. The lieutenants followed; Pellinger watched, but didn't get too close. Jordan was repulsed, Sullivan impassive, Cosbett indifferent. But though Pellinger didn't follow him around, Kirk could tell he was enjoying himself. _Don't get impatient and rush this_, he told himself. _Not only does it have to be believable to convince Cosbett, it has to satisfy Pellinger. When he's sated with victory, he'll get expansive and careless._

Pellinger added the pile driver and Kirk hit the floor. Still jerking and shaking, he rolled around and around, occasionally reaching for his head, and being generally out of control. After about ten minutes of this, Pellinger turned it all off. Kirk stood, even more slowly than before, falling twice before achieving it.

"Had enough, Kirk? Tell me what I want to know."

"No."

"Ah, he's finally admitting there is something to tell. But you are too stubborn for your own good, Kirk. Trust me, you don't want round three. Last chance."

Kirk just stared and didn't bother to reply. Pellinger turned on all three at once and added a random alternator. Kirk went nuts. He staggered and jerked all over the place. He ran into walls, fell into people, howled, gasped, and moaned. He clawed his skin with fingernails and fists. After twenty minutes or so, he again ended up face down, clawing the floor. This time, when Pellinger turned it off, Kirk stayed down.

"Can you hear me, Kirk?"

"No."

He turned on all three, at sustained maximum intensity, rather than the waves it had been coming in. Kirk arched his back and screamed. He turned it off.

"Kirk?"

"No."

Maximum intensity. Scream. It went on a little longer.

"Well?"

No response.

More agony. Scream even longer.

Twice more.

Finally the scream went on long enough to degenerate into sobs. And the sobs continued even after he turned it off.

"Kirk?"

"No. No more. Please, no more. I'll say anything you want. Just don't - no more. I can't stand it."

Maximum agony. Scream, sob. "Sto-o-op it! Ple-ease!" It didn't stop. "All right! I'll talk! I promise!"

It stopped. "I know who you are. I know about the conspiracy."

"Now we're getting somewhere. What conspiracy?"

"It's all your fault - you and Cosbett. Seven months. Seven long months of agony. All your fault."

"What conspiracy?"

"You would just claim I'm lying. But I know the truth. And I'm not the only one that knows."

Kirk rolled over onto his back and started to sit up. Pellinger hit the button and maximum agony struck again. Kirk collapsed screaming. Five minutes of out of control behavior before it stopped.

"Found all seven infiltrators. Young freely admitted it. The others had to be tricked into revealing themselves. Of course, Young didn't know about the plot to incite war with the Klingons and Romulans."

"Who does know about your conspiracy?"

"It's not my conspiracy. You set me up as a pawn to cement the alliance. If I didn't know better, I'd say Perón was in on it too."

Pellinger was contemptuous. "Perón is a fool, a coward, and a sissie. Half the Federation is afraid of war, and the other half is selfishly provincial. Perón is both!"

"Pellinger, you idiot!" It was Cosbett. "Do you realize what you just said?! You agreed we would say nothing, did you not?"

"What difference does it make? Kirk is going to die anyway. Who can he tell?"

"The important question is, who has he already told?"

"I'm getting to that. Don't rush me."

Cosbett fumed, but backed off.

*Spock, move in. This could get out of hand any minute.*

"So, Kirk, answer the question."

"What question?"

Agony and screams again.

"Who did you tell?"

"About what?"

More of the same.

"About the conspiracy."

"What conspiracy?"

Much more of the same. Pellinger was getting annoyed.

Cosbett had had enough, and stepped in, breaking his own rule.

"Kirk, quit stalling. You will tell us who knows enough to name us as the top organizers in the plan to promote war with the Klingons and Romulans. Besides yourself, who knows enough to be dangerous?"

*Bingo. Now I need a diversion. ASAP.*

*Understood. We are performing standard search pattern.*

Pellinger hit the button, and Kirk went into the act one more time.

"Give me a name, Kirk. Who knows?"

Silence.

"I have one more button, Kirk. Don't make me push it."

Kirk suddenly launched himself at Pellinger. They went down in a pile of arms and legs. The lieutenants tried to pull his arms out of their sockets. Pellinger hit the last button, Kirk shrieked, collapsed, and instinctively clawed at his head. The lieutenants did their job, and Pellinger picked himself up. He turned it off.

"A name, Kirk."

"Spock."

"Who else?"

"Nobody. Just Spock."

Double maximum agony. Scream. Turned off.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Only Spock. Nobody else."

More double agony.

"You better be telling the truth."

"I am. Just Spock."

The intercom whistled. "_Bridge to Captain Jordan._"

"Jordan here."

"_We're picking up a vessel on sensors, sir._"

"Who is it?"

"_The _Enterprise_, sir._"

"I'm on my way. Jordan out."

Jordan left. Cosbett followed him. Pellinger kicked Kirk in the ribs.

"How convenient. You will have company shortly, Kirk." To Sullivan, "Tie him and tape him, unless you want to listen to the noise." He chuckled wickedly, and hit the button as he went out the door.

Kirk screamed for about thirty seconds, til he was sure Pellinger was gone. As he fell silent, he heard footsteps approach. He opened his eyes, rolled over, and sat up. Sullivan stopped short.

"Did he turn it off?"

"No."

Sullivan stared, speechless for a moment. "It was an act?!"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"That should be obvious."

"Kirk, I have to get you out of here."

"What for?"

"They're going to kill you."

"I've heard that litany before. Besides, why should you care?"

"Kirk, I know it doesn't look like it, but I really am on your side."

"Forgive me if I doubt that, but what about your lieutenants?"

"They work for me, not Pellinger."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You signed their death warrants by letting them hear this. Do they know that?"

"They trust me."

"What about Jordan?"

"He's theirs."

"And I'm supposed to believe you're not?"

"I'm asking you to trust me, Kirk. And we don't have much time."

"Has it occurred to you that Cosbett may have booby-trapped your yacht? I wouldn't go near it if I were you. How do you know you're not on the death list too?"

"How can you sit there carrying on a conversation with that thing on your head?"

"The same way I can give a believable performance of falling apart - lots of practice."

"Why don't you take it off?"

"Because it's probably booby-trapped. So if you're not going to tie and gag me, I'm going to take over this ship. You can help, or stay out of it. Your choice."

"I'm in, if you've got any kind of a reasonable plan."

"Sullivan, if you're in, you'll take my orders. I don't care if you outrank me. You can court-martial me later. Do we understand each other?"

Sullivan took a deep breath, swallowed his pride, and came to attention. "Yes, sir, Captain. I respect your authority as commander in the field."

"Thank you." Kirk stood up and addressed the lieutenants. "And what about you guys? In or out? No guarantees with either choice, and I don't have time to answer questions. Joe?"

"I'm in, sir." Very little hesitation.

"Dick?"

"I'm with Sullie. In, sir."

"Cory?"

"Captain, you don't want-"

"Deal with that later. Right now, are you in this or not? You choose."

Cory took a deep breath. "If you'll have me, sir, I'm in."

"Greg?"

Greg held Kirk's eyes for a long moment. "In, Captain."

"Great. Now here's what we're going do."


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

"_Enterprise_ to _Milano_. Captain Young here. May I speak with Captain Jordan."

"Incoming visuals, sir."

"On screen, Uhura."

Jordan in the center seat was flanked by two admirals.

"_Enterprise_, I thought you were in for repairs."

"All in due time, Captain. I have reason to believe that Captain Kirk is aboard your vessel. May I speak with him please?"

"I'm afraid not, Captain. Kirk is under some strain at the moment. He's been in closed-session conference ever since coming aboard. However, he asked me to convey a request, since you are here. He would like for Captain Spock to join him. As soon as possible, in fact. We can beam him aboard now, if you'll give us the coordinates."

"He's been in his quarters for several days, doing some personal research. If you'll wait a moment, I'll check with him."

He walked over to Uhura and muttered, "Cut audio." As he pretended to call Spock, he turned his back to the camera.

"I don't want to let them have you, Spock." He spoke in a low voice without turning to him.

"Can you keep their attention for three more minutes?"

"I'll try. Audio up, Uhura."

He returned to the center seat.

"He requested a few minutes to prepare himself. That's Vulcanese for 'get dressed.' And knowing Vulcans, it'll take him thirty seconds flat. But, no hesitation. He'll drop whatever he's doing and come running whenever Kirk calls. I've never seen the like. Most Vulcans won't give you the time of day, if it interrupts their precious experimental program. Not Spock - he follows Kirk around like a loyal dog. It's almost disgusting.

"Anyway, ship-to-ship transport can be tricky sometimes. So if you don't mind, we'll use our transporter, and Scotty will man the controls. Not that I'm accusing you of incompetence, mind you, just being extra careful with such very valuable cargo. After all, senior Bridge crew of the _Enterprise_ is a limited, very expensive commodity. So if you'll send us the coordinates, I'll expedite this transfer as quickly as possible."

He pretended to call Mr. Scott to the transporter room, and to advise the transporter room of upcoming traffic. After some thirty seconds of exaggerated impatience, he made a show of calling to inquire about the delay. Without waiting for a response, he demanded that Spock call the Bridge as soon as he arrived.

_Come on, Jim_, thought Young, _I can't keep this up much longer._

He turned to the screen. "My abject apologies for the delay, gentlemen. It seems I may have been overly optimistic in my estimate of the length of time that it takes a Vulcan to get dressed. Perhaps, on occasion, they find that putting one's pants on one leg at a time does not contain enough of a challenge. They must, therefore, on alternate Thursdays, achieve the nearly impossible task of defying artificial gravity, and inserting both legs simultaneously. And of course, this must be done from a vertical position. Sitting down could be considered cheating and highly dishonorable."

By the time he had finished this ridiculous dissertation, the attention of the three on screen had been diverted by something behind them. Young just watched, rather than draw sufficient attention to himself that they would cut the connection.

xxxx

The lift disgorged Sullivan, followed by his lieutenants, two of whom carried the stretcher containing Kirk's body. They set it down on the deck behind the center seat, and stepped back. All four had drawn phasers, aimed at Kirk.

Sullivan spoke. "Bringing the prisoner as ordered, sirs. He's out cold, but we're taking no chances."

They had put his pants on and thrown his jacket over the mess of his torso. He was lying on his back, his hands under him, the head device in place.

Cosbett was furious. "As ordered! By who?! Get him off the Bridge now!"

Sullivan stood his ground, aware that _Enterprise_ was watching and listening. "But sir, you demanded that we bring him. Said they insisted on proof that Captain Kirk was actually here. I told you it was unwise, but-"

"I gave no such orders! You're making it up, you fool!"

"No, he didn't. I did." Kirk sat up, shedding the jacket and revealing his hands to be untied.

Under cover of this motion, the lieutenants shifted the aim of their weapons to cover the entire Bridge. Sullivan drew his weapon, and aimed it squarely at Cosbett. Kirk had no weapon, and remained seated. Pellinger drew the remote control from his pocket and began hitting buttons at random. Kirk ignored him for the moment. Cosbett was more dangerous.

"The game is up, Cosbett. You're finished."

Cosbett drew his phaser and grabbed the nearest body to use as a shield. It happened to be a young female, the Science Officer on duty. The phaser to her head, he began to inch toward the lift door.

"Let him go," Kirk ordered.

At the lift, he jumped inside, threw the girl down, and was gone.

"Jordan, make sure he doesn't sabotage your ship."

Jordan hit the all-call. "This is the Captain. Mr. Cosbett is armed and dangerous. Allow him to leave the ship. Do not detain him. Inform the Bridge of his departure."

Silence on the Bridge and nobody moved as the shock wore off. Kirk stood up and stepped to the middle of the Bridge, forcing Pellinger and Jordan to turn towards him. This gave all and sundry a good look at Kirk's torso. Several gasps, but none from the _Enterprise_. Pellinger was still hitting buttons; Jordan looked pale and grim.

Kirk addressed the entire Bridge. "For now, I'm assuming you are all guilty by association. You'll have opportunity later to prove your innocence. You will submit to a boarding party of _Enterprise_ Security Officers, along with a prize crew to man this vessel. But the _Milano_'s not going anywhere until Spock and Scotty have made a thorough search for sabotage."

"Sir," the Science Officer had regained her work station. "Sullivan's vessel departing."

The intercom chimed. "Lieutenant Gates, reporting as ordered, Captain."

"Go ahead, Gates," Jordan replied.

"Mr. Cosbett has taken Mr. Sullivan's vessel, sir."

"Anybody go with him?"

"No, sir."

"Thank you. Bridge out."

Kirk turned to the screen. "Young, overtake and apprehend."

"Already on it, Captain. Will advise. Young out."

Kirk turned back to the Bridge crew. "Everybody, put your hands on your head. You too, Pellinger. Put that thing away."

He slowly complied, still mystified by Kirk's lack of response.

"Now back away from your work stations, slowly."

He sat the five of them on the deck under the main screen, and set Joe and Dick to watching them. He put Jordan and Pellinger face down on the upper deck, and set Greg and Cory to watching them. Sullivan watched all and sundry, as well as the lift door. Kirk checked each work station, looking for anything amiss. He set the helm to automatically hold station. He routed Communications to the Science station, and sat down in front of the sensors.

*Okay, Spock. How do I do this? Better yet, you do it.*

*Jim, there are limits to this link.*

*I bet you could, if I let you. Try it. It'd be a whole lot faster if you can.*

So Spock took over Kirk's hands. He read the sensors, internal and external, performed a number of diagnostic checks, established locations of all personnel, verified weapons and shields status, and found nothing amiss. He went on to check for virus programs buried in the system, and other high-tech booby traps.

*Nothing obvious.*

*They weren't expecting to be taken.*

*Manual checks will still be necessary. And there may be something less obvious. Cosbett is not to be underrated.*

*Understood, but that can wait til you get here.*

*Young is about to call you.*

Spock released Kirk's hands so he could answer the call.

"_Captain Kirk, Young here. Sullivan's vessel has been taken aboard. Cosbett was found dead. Initial examination indicates suicide. I'm sorry._"

"Not your fault. He was a driven man. Contact Perón, if you would. And how soon can I get that boarding party? I'm holding the Bridge crew hostage. The rest of the ship is clueless."

"_You can have Spock, Byrd, and Sulu immediately. Scotty says he can beam them right onto the Bridge, if you'll get out of the way._"

"It's a deal."

Three minutes later, three forms coalesced into good friends. Kirk grinned and started to relax.

"You're a sight for sore eyes."

Chuck retorted, "You're a sight, Captain. What did you tangle with? And what kind of a halo is that on your head?"

"Tell you later. You've got quite a clean-up operation here. Sulu, you have the conn. Spock is going to be pretty busy. Jordan, stand up. Get down here and make a general announcement to the crew. Everyone is to sit down and put their hands on their head. Anyone making hostile moves will be summarily dealt with. I don't want any violence here. If necessary, we can gas all decks and do this the hard way."

Jordan was sullen, but cooperative. Chuck sent the Bridge crew to the _Enterprise_ first.

"You can have Jordan, but I want to deal with Pellinger personally, before you lock him up."

"Is he the one responsible for all this?" He gestured at Kirk's chest. "I didn't think you were the vengeful sort."

"I'm not, but he has a few questions that need answering. These four work for Sullivan. They'll need to make statements, but they're clean. I'll vouch for all of them."

Sullivan raised an eyebrow, but the lieutenants were pretty uneasy.

"Your word's good, Captain. I'll let you know when I'm finished."

"Tell Spock, if you would. These gentlemen, Mr. Pellinger, and I will be in the free-fall court."

Silence en route. Once there, Kirk dropped his uniform jacket on the pile with the rest of his clothes. He strode to the middle of the room, and gestured Pellinger to approach.

"You first, Pellinger. You'll find I'm quite amenable now to answering questions. So ask - what do you want to know?"

"How can you - I saw you fall apart - they all saw it." He gestured widely. "I didn't dream it. Oh, I get it. You found a way to turn it off."

"It's still on." Pellinger didn't believe him. "I'll prove it to you. Take out the control pad. You know which button does what? You press buttons, and I'll tell you which one you pressed."

He turned his back. After several long moments, Pellinger began to press buttons. In a matter-of-fact voice, Kirk correctly described each one. When Pellinger started a third round of repetitions, Kirk turned around and smiled.

"Convinced? Now, you want to know how I can do this. Thanks to your sending me to the Klingons, I have lots of experience with this kind of thing. From the moment you took the device out of your pocket, I was performing. The entire sequence of falling apart was an act, with one purpose in mind: to make you talk. If I hadn't, we could have been stalemated here for hours." Kirk paused to gather his thoughts.

"Nonetheless, I am aware that this trickery makes you feel cheated. So I am prepared to offer you an opportunity for revenge. You like a good fight with a real opponent. I will fight you, man to man, no weapons, if you take off the braids. This is just between us; rank has nothing to do with it. Not a fight to the death, it's over when one of us has had enough. You can concede verbally, or you can simply stay down for a ten-count. Sullivan will referee. No breaks; no time limit. But if I win, you give me the names of everybody involved in this. We'll find them anyway, but it would be faster if you tell me."

"That's not an enforceable prize."

"I trust your word."

"And if I win?"

"Name your price."

"You teach me how you hide it."

"I'll give you a one-hour coaching session."

"Why haven't you taken this control away from me?"

"I'm waiting for you to freely give it to me."

"_Give_ it to you?! You would fight me with that thing on your head, and the control pad in my hand?!"

"If that's the way you want it, yes. It might get damaged in the process, but I don't imagine it will fall off."

Pellinger thought about it for a moment. "I don't think that would be a fair fight. So, take it off."

"You put it on; you take it off."

Pellinger sighed, turned off the pain, and hit another hidden button. The leads clamped to Kirk's head popped loose, and Pellinger took the device.

"How did you know it was booby-trapped?"

"I guessed."

Pellinger folded the device into a small package, and laid it and the control pad in Kirk's hands. Kirk gave them to Sullivan with a smile.

"Souvenir for you, Sullie." He turned back to Pellinger. "So, do you agree to the terms of the fight?"

"You want it clean?"

"Your choice, but if you play dirty, I'm not guaranteeing that I won't follow suit."

"All right, I agree to your terms. Anywhere in this room, and everybody stays out of the way."

"Yes."

Pellinger stripped to the waist, and removed boots and socks as well. Kirk analyzed what he saw. Pellinger outweighed him by at least thirty pounds. Slightly taller, he would have the advantage of reach. They were roughly the same age, but he could hope that Pelligner was not as fit as he looked. This promised to be interesting.

*Sorry, Spock.*

*I will manage.*

Kirk let Pellinger have the first blow, and it angered him.

Kirk laughed. "That's the only one you get for free. The rest you will work for. It's a promise."

He avoided most of the blows aimed at his face, and ignored all the body blows. Pellinger adjusted within minutes, and started aiming all the blows for the face. Kirk didn't care about the pain, or even the damage, but he wanted to be able to see and talk when this was done. He gave up trying to protect the face, and switched from defense to offense.

"I wondered what it would take to get you mad, Kirk."

"I'm not mad. Are you?"

"Heavens, no. I love a good fight."

Kirk was enjoying himself too. It was somehow freeing to let loose some aggression. He decided he didn't care in the slightest who won. He would keep this up as long as he had energy. Pellinger's blows were not slowing him down appreciably. And his didn't seem to have any visible effect on Pellinger either. But Pellinger landed more blows than Kirk did.

"Had enough, Kirk?"

"No. Are you getting tired?"

"You're wonderful, Kirk. Seldom have I had anybody who can stand up for long to what I dish out."

"Outlets for aggression are few and far between."

"You like it, Kirk. Don't deny it!"

"This is a rare treat. I seldom let this lion out to play, and never without a leash."

"You're a sissie!" Pellinger scoffed.

"You don't believe that."

"You're a coward!"

"You know I'm not," Kirk replied mildly.

"Such accusations don't make you mad."

"I know who I am. I control my lust for battle because of the injury it would cause if I don't. I can kill when I must, but I will try everything else first. Life is of great worth."

It was such a foreign concept that Pellinger stood stock still for a moment. Kirk just waited. They had been trading blows as they talked, but Kirk was unwilling to take advantage. This made Pellinger angry, and he let loose his fury. They had kept it clean until then, but Pellinger began throwing in every dirty trick he knew.

Kirk blocked some of it, but ignored the smashed ear lobe, the heel grinding his instep, and the fingernails raking his already bloody chest. Most important, Kirk refused to follow suit. This had become a matter of principle. If he stooped to fighting dirty, he was condoning Pellinger's free rein on his battle lust. And that he could not do.

Pellinger screamed his fury and doubled his efforts. He knew very well what was at stake, and it made him mad that Kirk could successfully defy him. But deep down, he recognized that what Kirk was doing was more difficult than what he was doing. When he allowed that fact to penetrate the cloud of his fury, and the corollaries that Kirk was neither a coward nor a sissie, he stopped.

"Okay, Kirk, you win. I will learn to control it."

"You've taken the first step. It's a long road, but don't give up. You'll get there."

"Thank you, Kirk. I don't know anybody else who would do for me what you just did. It'll make the court-martial easier. You'll have your list of names. The least I can do is keep my word, after everything I've done to you."

Kirk grinned. "I enjoyed the fight, Admiral. The rest is history."


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Sullivan arranged for an escort for Pellinger, and Kirk turned his attention to the lieutenants.

"Your turn, guys. Who's got a question?"

Dead silence. They alternated between staring at him and the floor at their feet.

"I've got maybe half an hour before this face is so swollen I can't see. So talk to me. I can guess, but I'd rather not make assumptions. I understand you're embarrassed. Get past that to the real issues."

Still they would say nothing. Kirk let the silence get awkward, and just waited, looking at each of them in turn. Finally Joe spoke up.

"Why did you vouch for us? How could you think we were clean after what we did to you? We could have helped with the takeover just to save our skins."

"You aren't that kind. Nobody reacted when I talked about your death warrants. It wasn't a new idea to you. Besides, Sullivan vouched for you."

"He's not on your side either. None of us are," blurted out Dick.

Kirk chuckled. "You'll have to sort that one out with him. I know, you do all the grunt work without knowing what the frak is going on. And when it's all over, they still won't tell you. That's the heart of the military, gentlemen. You are what makes it work."

"You're trying to tell us that you don't take any of it personally?" Dick pursued. "It's all in the line of duty?"

"That's right. I was after Cosbett and Pellinger. The only way to get them was through you. And Sullivan's right - better that you didn't know."

"Is that why you told Joe he wasn't your enemy?"

"No. Even if you had proved to be in Cosbett's camp, and I didn't at the time know that you weren't, you would never be my enemies. Cosbett and Pellinger weren't enemies. What was driving them is the enemy. I don't war against people. That's why I can be friends with anyone who will allow it, even Pellinger. Even you, Dick."

Kirk held out his hand with a smile. Dick hesitated, then shook hands, finally letting out a tentative smile.

"Joe?" Kirk shook Joe's hand too, and got a warm smile in return. "I know I'm weird, but it works."

"Yeah, you sure are. But I'm your friend for life."

"Thank you, Joe." Kirk turned to Greg and Cory. "I told you guys once that I forgave you for what you did to me. You didn't believe me. Do you now?"

"But, Captain," Cory objected, "That didn't have anything to do with this. We weren't working for Cosbett then."

"Makes no difference. I forgive you for all of it. Can we be friends?"

"But sir, you don't understand!" Cory's eyes held confusion, hurt, guilt, and anger.

"I want to understand. Can you tell me?" Kirk's voice was quiet, gentle.

Cory looked helplessly at Greg. After several moments of indecision between them, Greg sighed, and began to talk.

"It's a long story, Captain."

"Can you condense it, or do we need to schedule a meeting tomorrow?"

Greg looked at Sullivan, who shook his head.

"No telling where we'll be tomorrow, so I'll make this as short as I can. You remember that meeting with Eric and them?"

"Yes."

"Well, me and Cory were mad. Nothing was the same after that. The gang broke up. All Eric wanted to talk about was Jesus. We figured it was all your fault. So we put in for a transfer. Not more than a week on the new job, this guy shows up, wants to talk to us about the _Enterprise_. We were still mad, see, so we gave him both barrels. I don't know what all we said, but he got the general idea.

"Two months later, he was back, wanting to know if we would testify in court against you. We were pretty unhappy about a lot of things. The _Enterprise_ had been a good posting; this place was- well, not well-run. Anyway, we said we would testify. They took us off the job, grilled us for the better part of a month, and by the end, had us really believing what we said. Needless to say, after the court-martial, we were pretty depressed. That's when Cosbett found us.

"Made us feel important, needed, 'all for the cause', etc. But we found out doing Cosbett's dirty work was in a whole different league than anything we'd been into before. Cruelty, indifference - that man was inhuman. But we were in deep, no way out. So we kept our mouths shut and did as we were told.

"Sullivan wasn't part of the picture til maybe a month ago. Cosbett brought him one day, and told us to do Sullivan's bidding, and here we are. So the idea that we work for Sullie is a bit of a stretch. Dick and Joe had been doing Sullie's work off and on for several years. But us - we're in Cosbett's camp. So when you vouched for us, you were misinformed. Now that you know the truth, sir, you can send us to the Brig with all the rest."

"What I said before stands. You'll need to make statements, but you're not going to the Brig. You were in Cosbett's camp because you made some mistakes, not because you really believe Pellinger and Cosbett were right. When the chips were down, you made the right choice. If Sullie doesn't need you for other clandestine work, I'd be glad to recommend you for a posting on the _Enterprise_. Assuming of course, that I get my job back. Right now, I'm a captain without a ship."

"You would do that?! Nobody gets reposted to a ship they've left."

"I'm hoping they'll make an exception for me. Unusual circumstances, and all that." He smiled.

"You would give us a second chance?!"

"Everybody makes mistakes. You've learned from yours."

Greg smiled broadly. "I would really like that, sir. Thank you, Captain. I hardly know what to say. Sorry seems so inadequate."

"Do you believe that I forgive you? Can we be friends?"

"Yes, sir, I do. The idea that you want me as a friend is incredible, but I'll try. I will really try."

"Good. What about you, Cory?"

"This is what Eric saw in you. It turned his world upside down."

"He would tell you that the love of Jesus turned his world right side up. He'll do it for you too, if you want it."

"I might. I just might."

Kirk shook hands with them both and excused himself to talk to Sullivan in the corner. He still had a slit of vision in one eye.

"I'm going back to the _Enterprise_ for some personal damage control. That leaves you in command here. Sulu will bring the ship into dock at Seven. After that, it's all yours. I imagine Spock and Scotty are about done hunting for sabotage. If they don't find anything, you should be able to leave shortly. _Enterprise_ will turn over the prisoners to Randy on Seven. I think Graber was working for Pellinger. Any questions?"

"You seem almighty sure that I'm not working for Pellinger and Cosbett." Sullivan's tone held a note of self-mockery.

"On the contrary. I'm sure you were. But you also work for Perón."

"Did he tell you?"

"Heavens, no. But you could have told me. We wasted several minutes there at the end, because I didn't know how you fit."

"Perón thought I should tell you. But in my business, the agent in the field is pretty autonomous. He couldn't force me to tell you. I'm used to playing things pretty close to the chest. But the biggest reason I didn't tell you is that I couldn't believe you would willingly do what I needed from you. I used you and abused you, Captain, with Perón's permission, and he knew I wasn't going to tell you. It wasn't until I realized what you had done to get them to talk that I understood how seriously I had underestimated you. I don't know if I could have done what you did."

"I've done it before, more than once. Believe me, your job would have been much more difficult for me. A point of curiosity: I still can't tie in the name, 'Argonaby.' Spock's research turned up a reference from the twentieth century. It was a code word used by a certain fraternity on the campus of the University of Louisiana. The initials stood for their motto: 'Roaches gone, never belong.' Spock said it was a facetious reference to local fauna. But what on earth do cockroaches have to do with this affair?"

Sullivan chuckled. "Absolutely nothing. I took the code word as an ID, because it has personal meaning. You see, Captain, my real name is Sylvester Roach."

Kirk laughed. "I like it, Sullie. The dry humor fits you."

xxxx

By the time Kirk got back to the _Enterprise_, he was completely blind. Young met him in the transporter room.

"Does the other guy look better or worse?"

"Probably better, but I enjoyed it anyway. However, an escort to Sickbay might save me running into anyone. Though actually, I need a detour to the Brig first. I forgot to ask Pellinger whether Graber is on the list."

"What list?"

"I'll tell you on the way."

Pellinger confirmed Graber's involvement and gave the names of four other high-ranking officials who were implicated. Kirk insisted Sickbay could wait, and he hung around while Pellinger wrote out the complete list of names. As they left the Brig, Kirk gave the list to Young.

"Tell Perón we have this, but don't send it over the comm. Hand-delivered courier only."

"I'll deliver it myself, but Jim, how do you know my name's not on the list?"

"I don't. But if it is, you'll deliver the list anyway. You're that kind of person."

"You have a lot of faith in me."

"Yes, I do." And Kirk smiled.

xxxx

By the time McCoy was done with him, _Enterprise_ had safely docked at Starbase 7. Kirk was actually feeling pretty awful, and McCoy wasn't being at all sympathetic.

"At least with Koh's equipment, the aftereffects didn't last very long. Bones, I feel old. Why can't I bounce back and put it all behind me?"

"Jim, you've never been very considerate of your body's demands for kind treatment. But what you've put it through in the last year would age anybody. You've got bruises all over your body from those chains. Your nervous system's a wreck from that Romulan device. The lacerations on chest, arms, and back - well, it's not as deep as the last whipping - but it's more widespread. And the beating you took from Pellinger is on top of all that. And that's just the most recent damage. Doesn't count residual effects from a whole bunch of stuff. _And_, I'm not discounting the stress of that mind-link with Spock. When was the last time you had any decent sleep?"

"Not all that long ago. I'm sorry, Bones. I shouldn't be complaining. I'm just dreading all that red tape to wade through about this whole mess. Just tell me to shut up, and I'll be fine."

"I'll tell you something else you're dreading. You've been dreading it since the minute you stepped back on this ship. And I don't have to read your mind to know that."

He studied Kirk in silence a moment. Still blind, Kirk stared as if he could see him. Then he lowered his head and sighed.

"You're right, Bones. There's no more real reason to put it off. But I can't face it. And it has nothing to do with the state of my body. How am I going to get through this?"

"The same way you do everything: by the grace of God. What is Spock thinking about it?"

"The same as me, if not worse. He's the one that has to do it. All I have to do is let him."

"And is this state of affairs going to get worse the longer we put it off?"

"We'll put it off as long as you let us, and any excuse will do; it doesn't even have to be reasonable."

"I'm looking for some Spock analysis here."

"It is difficult, Doctor, but I will try." It was Kirk's words, but suddenly, it was Spock's thoughts. _Weird_, thought McCoy. But it didn't seem to be weird for Jim. Rather, normal, natural.

"It has been over a week since we established this link. None of the other recorded incidences lasted more than three days. There is no data with which to compare the present situation. Subjective analysis is not to be trusted. However, since you desire an opinion, I am not aware of any increase in the emotions associated with this subject. More or less able, when faced with the seemingly impossible, has little practical relevance."

There was no apparent change, but suddenly it was Kirk speaking.

"Sorry, Bones. That's the best we can give you. So, do we do it now?"

His whole body was tensed in unconscious anticipation, clearly expecting McCoy to say 'yes'.

"No. I want to give your body a little time to recover first. I think you can have 48 hours, maybe more. But I'll be watching you both. If it looks like it's getting worse, I may change my mind."

Kirk sighed in relief, grinned, and began breathing again. Not right now was all that mattered. The future could worry about itself.

"Thanks, Bones. I feel much better already. Can you believe I was actually considering a sedative? What nonsense! How soon do you think I'll be able to see?"

He jumped off the table and began to get dressed.

"Sometime tomorrow if you ice it for a few hours, and don't run into any doors. I suppose getting you to really rest that battered body is wishful thinking."

"Rest?! What fun is that?" Kirk grinned. "Seriously, Bones, the sooner I get the officialese off my back, the happier I'll be."

"Jim, if you go see Perón looking like that, there's no telling what he might throw at you. Perón can wait til tomorrow. Write a few reports instead. That oughta put you to sleep."

"Doctor's wisdom should never be ignored. Thanks, Bones."

And he was out the door, no more hampered by blindness than Spock had been. Was Spock doing it for him? No way to tell. Knowing Jim, however, probably not.

xxxx

Kirk spent the next 24 hours in his quarters. He wrote reports; he prayed; he paced the floor; he iced his face; and he slept. He woke so stiff and sore, he fell out of bed. Calisthenics, stretching, shower, more stretching and calisthenics. More praying and pacing. He slept again. This time when he woke, things were marginally better. Muscles still complained loudly, but not so stiff. He exercised again and took a shower.

Then he looked at himself in the mirror. The eyes were open again, but the face looked awful. The rest of him did too. Small consolation that it was starting to feel a little less awful. A face-to-face encounter with Perón did not promise to be enjoyable. But he could not put it off a second day. Perón would say he didn't care what Kirk looked like. But Kirk himself was embarrassed.

_Jim, why don't you ask Me to heal you?_

_ Lord, it's not necessary. There's nothing riding on this._

_ Must all your miracles be when you desperately need one?_

_ Some of them are when somebody else needs one._

_ Jim, you have been miserable for no reason. To whom are you trying to prove something?_

_ Am I stalling the mind-link surgery?_

_ Are you?_

_ I didn't think so. It just hadn't occurred to me to ask for a miracle._

_ Jim, I want you to be whole and healthy all the time. I know you are willing to suffer much, and I don't object when you can use it to reach people with My love. But I do not do these things to you. I let you allow them because you choose to. My design is for you to be completely whole and healthy, full of life and vigor, right up to the moment I call you home. Are you willing to let Me heal you?_

_ Yes, Lord. I want what You want for me. Thank you._

Kirk felt a warmth flow through him, from the tip of his head to the soles of his feet. He looked in the mirror and saw his face completely healed. Something looked odd though. As he studied his image, it suddenly hit him. The brand on his forehead was gone! Completely erased, as if it had never been. He looked down at the rest of him - not a scratch on him. Even the deep chest scars from First's holodeck were gone. He got a mirror and studied his back - not a scar in sight. The only physical signs remaining from the last year were the slave collar and the added muscle mass from the weight lifting.

_Bones is not going to believe this!_ Kirk thought to himself.

*Oh yes, he will.* Spock's tone held a hint of- was it anger?

*Spock, I'm sorry. I didn't even ask you! This means he'll schedule the surgery for today. I can't not tell him. I'm really sorry, Spock.*

*Jim, it is I who am sorry for spoiling this moment of joy with my inappropriate anger. I would not deny you this healing, and I rejoice with you. I will not think about the consequences.*

*Spock, I wish this weren't so hard. I wish I could help you.*

*It is, and you cannot. We will survive this. God is faithful.*


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Kirk wasted no time in getting to McCoy's office. Bones took one look at him, dropped his jaw, and picked up the med-scanner.

"What happened, Jim?"

"The Lord did it, this morning."

"Mind if I run some tests, take some pictures?"

"Standard response, Bones: as long as it doesn't take too long."

Kirk grinned briefly, but McCoy wasn't fooled. The look in the eyes gave him away. Dread of Spock's surgery loomed large in Jim's mind.

Less than thirty minutes later, they were back in McCoy's office.

"The Lord is certainly thorough. Too bad He didn't make that collar disappear. I've one or two ideas about getting rid of it, but there's not been time to talk to Scotty or Spock about whether they might work."

"Don't sweat it, Bones. I don't think about it, don't notice it's there, don't even feel it. If it mattered to me, the Lord would have mentioned it."

"What did He say about the mind-link? That matters. You can't deny it."

"This is something we have to choose to do. The Lord will walk through it with us, but He won't do it for us. It's okay, Bones, we expect you to say now is the time. We _will_ survive this. I promise."

"Jim, I have news for you that's both good and bad. You get to put it off."

Kirk's face lit up, and he sighed in relief. Why didn't matter nearly as much as the fact of not right now.

"Aren't you even curious about why?"

"Doesn't matter why. Thank you, Bones."

"Don't thank me. It's M'Benga's fault. He made inquiries among his Vulcan associates, so now several Vulcan scientists and healers want to study you. But it gets worse. One of them made official inquiries through Starfleet channels, so now we've got a team of Fleet higher-up's coming too. I found out about this yesterday. They're already en route and will arrive tomorrow. I told 'em we wouldn't wait. But they backed me into a corner. It's not killing you, and the delay won't kill you, or even make it significantly worse. So we're stuck with it. I'm sorry, Jim."

"Spock just got very quiet. You know how he feels about this kind of thing. He's not a circus animal, or a zoo specimen."

"You're not either, but you may feel like one before this is over. And it won't surprise me if it's more than a bit like a circus, with Vulcans and Fleet doctors butting heads, and the two of you in the middle of it. I'll do what I can, but I don't know if it'll be enough. Even the medical profession has rank-pullers," McCoy admitted.

"Bones, there's nothing keeping us from doing this before they get here. And once it's done, they can't force a repeat performance just for their scientific curiosity."

"That's true, but will you?"

*Spock, it's up to you. I can weather the circus easier than you can.*

*I understand the scientific curiosity.*

*And any excuse will do.*

"We will wait, Bones. But pray for Spock. What was impossibly difficult has just become more so."

xxxx

Kirk scheduled a number of meetings for the day. The first was with Perón. He had taken over a conference room as his office.

"Good morning, Jim. Sit down. It's good to see you. You look remarkably good, considering. I heard about that fight with Pellinger, but it sure doesn't show. How do you feel?"

"I feel good, Jorge. The Lord completely healed me this morning. No scars left."

"That's wonderful! Praise Jesus! Jim-" He sighed. "I didn't want to use you like we did. But you were our best chance. Sullivan was getting closer, but he thought it would be months yet before they'd open up to him. And always the risk of discovery. A messy business, but this was faster."

"If you're working yourself up to an apology, forget it. I would've done something similar, even if you hadn't sent me that message."

"You did get the message then. I wondered. Sullivan's message didn't say much of anything. And he refused to tell you what he needed you for." Perón was still feeling guilty.

"Relax, Jorge. I probably wouldn't have told me either. In his plan, I was a pawn - I didn't need to know the who or why of any of it. Dangerous for him if I knew too much. After all, who wouldn't talk under that kind of circumstance." Kirk grinned.

"He gave me a much more detailed description than you did. The chains on bare skin was Cosbett's idea. Sullie was appalled. And the rest of it - 'over the top,' he called it. Couldn't believe you stood it. And then when you finally talked, he felt sorry for you. But it gave him the evidence he needed. Absolutely floored him to find out you did it on purpose. He said it was a masterful performance." Perón was almost chattering, but Kirk just let him get it all out.

Perón wasn't done yet. "Sullivan was in here again this morning with that toy you gave him. Been playing with it a lot apparently. 'Indescribable agony,' he called it. Then he dared me to put it on too." Perón shook his head. "Jim, he's right. I can't comprehend how you could tolerate it, much less perform in spite of it."

"Not in spite of, but in parallel to. The performance had to match the reality in order to be believable. Even so, I wondered if Cosbett believed it. Pellinger was easy to fool; he wanted to believe it. But why did you take Sullie's dare? I expected him to play with it, but you're not the type."

"You mean, I'm a coward."

"No, that's not what I mean, and you know it."

"Sorry. I guess, I was doing penance for having let Sullie use you."

"Jorge, that's ridiculous! It's your job to send me; it's mine to do what you send me to do. I don't want your job; you don't want mine. And we had this conversation a long time ago. So what's the big deal?" Kirk reined in his annoyance. He wasn't really surprised that Perón needed to release some emotions about this.

"Sending you as Captain of the _Enterprise_ is one thing. Using you as a pawn, with no power to act, is quite another. And Sullivan told me it was going to get ugly. What you got into was no accident."

"I know that. I was under no illusions about what I was getting into. If we'd sat down together and planned the whole thing ahead of time, I wouldn't have done anything differently. I didn't feel like a pawn, I refuse to be a pawn, and I always have the power to act, even if my only weapons are my tongue and my body language."

"Well, the least I can do is give you back your ship. Assuming that is what you want. This mess opens up a lot of positions that need good men to fill."

"I don't want a desk job. Young assures me he doesn't want the _Enterprise_, so after this business with the mental surgery is done, yes, I would like my ship back."

Perón grimaced. "By the time I got wind of the big deal they're making of the link with Spock, it was too late to squash it. I gather, this is a bit more dangerous than some of the stuff you two have pulled."

"I don't know that the actual surgery is more dangerous. Maybe it is; I haven't asked. But the emotions tied up with the severing - even talking about it is difficult. But the hullabaloo is because Vulcans who've done this have died at the severing, and we've been linked longer than anybody else had. If we survive, they want to know how we manage it. They're going to have trouble believing the answer. 'Cause the only way we're going to survive is if God does it. And He will."

"I haven't decided what to do with the _Milano_. About half of the crew are on that list Young brought me. Sullie told me what you did to Pellinger. Met him on his own ground, and showed him the error of his ways. But you did it in a way he could respect and receive. Sullie thinks a lot of you. Anyway, Young is on that list; so is Sullie. But they aren't problems. I need a commander and twenty good people before I can put _Milano_ in the field again. Have you got anybody on the _Enterprise_ that's ready for their own command?"

"Lieutenant Tanis is getting close, but I don't want to ruin him by promoting him too fast. He's young; needs a stint as First Officer before he gets his own ship."

"You jumped straight to Captain, and he's almost as old as you were then."

"One fluke that turned out all right doesn't make it a good idea. But there's Chuck Byrd. Don't know if he's interested, but he's certainly qualified."

"I was going to offer him Graber's job."

"He'd be good at that too. Don't know how much of a diplomat he is, but he knows the base, he's good with people, and he's an excellent administrator. But he's a bit like me. I don't know if he'd be happy in a desk job, even as plum a posting as base commander. Offer him a choice. He knows himself well enough; it won't throw him. I'll go through the personnel files and see who else I might be willing to let you have."

"I appreciate that, Jim."

Later that day, Kirk made time for a conference with Young.

"Come in, Captain. Sit down. The official orders haven't arrived yet, but Perón assures me you'll be getting the _Enterprise_ back. I'm glad. I'm already starting to put off anything that can wait for you, so you'll have a pile of work on your desk just waiting for your arrival."

"Thanks. You're so kind. So you hate paperwork as much as I do? Send me copies of any of it that ought to be dealt with before we leave base. I'll try to get a jump start on it. I promised Perón some people for the _Milano_, so I need to go through the files anyway."

"Beta shift has had their leave. Gamma shift left this morning. Why do you do Alpha shift last?"

"We don't always. But for this kind of leave, Alpha usually has work to do. So we let everybody else go first, and if there's time when the work is done, Alpha will take a few hours too."

"And if there isn't time, Alpha does without?"

"When emergencies come up, everybody's used to getting shore leave canceled. Senior officers are expected to give their people leave first. It goes with the territory."

"He who would be greatest must be servant of all. You've put quite a bit of Biblical principles to work on this vessel," Young marveled.

"God put them in the Book for a reason. They work."

"Sullivan promised to take the last of the prisoners tomorrow. It stretches the base facilities quite a bit, but he realizes _Enterprise_ needs to be able to leave by the end of the week. Remember those four infiltrators still at large? Two of them were on Pellinger's list, so they've been taken into custody. But I've got nothing on the other two except Spock's probe."

"Who are they?"

"Rickenby, and Sloan."

"Housekeeping and Science, respectively?" Young nodded. "Leave them be. We'll keep an eye on them. If they don't request transfer, I'll find a way to talk to them. May just do the same thing we did to you. Give 'em permission to infiltrate to their heart's content, and watch what happens."

"I promised you a story. Is now a good time?"

"I'm all ears."

Young studied him for a moment. "The thing is, I don't feel like you need the story. You've already decided what you think of me, and nothing I say is going to change it. Sullie told me you did the same to him. Once you'd made up your mind, you'd risk everything on the basis of his word. 'Scary,' he called it."

"He's too used to the 'trust no one' scenario. Gets lonely. I have more fun."

"This job has changed me. I don't know if I can go back to that lonely life. Anyway, the story I promised: I live a dual existence. On the one hand, I am a statesman, diplomat, ruler, if you will, for one of the Morenan provinces. But that life tends to get a bit boring. So in exchange for my continued services, they tolerate my absences, though this is the longest absence to date. In my alternate existence, I am a professional spy. I work free-lance, which gives me the option to refuse any job I really don't want to do. I've done a number of things for the Federation over the years in widely varying arenas. Interesting side note: I was on Pellinger's list, not because of this assignment, but because of some work I did for him four years ago - preliminary contact with the Romulans." He paused to see if Kirk would ask him about that, but he didn't.

"First hint I got of this job was actually from Perón. Wanted to know if I'd consider a six to twelve month leave. No detail about the assignment, but he said it promised to be a real mess, and I was the best qualified man he knew of to pull it off. I hadn't had anything interesting come up for several months, so I told him yes, I would at least consider it."

Young grimaced in disgust. "I didn't think too much of the two guys who showed up to discuss details. Real bigots, they were. But Perón's not like that. If he hadn't contacted me first, I would've said 'no'. Real mess was an understatement; I didn't want any part of this deal. But I was bored. Gisa said it sounded like a fun vacation. Even Nona agreed to come, and she almost always stays home.

"Playing Captain of a starship sounded unusual enough to be interesting. The technical part of the job didn't worry me. They gave me almost a month to memorize stuff, and I've done it with less than a week. Being Captain was only part of the deal though. They were after two other things. The first was easy. They wanted an alien of mixed heritage - I didn't have to do anything, just be me. They wanted someone as unlikely to mix with your team as they could find. Perón talked them out of the other guy they were considering, because he really was incompetent. Anyway, the second thing they were after was a spy - someone who could pretend incompetence while not being actually so, someone who could imitate you, and someone who could ferret out the conspiracy they were certain existed.

"I've done plenty of that sort of thing. But here's the clincher. They wanted me to be blatantly obvious about it, throw it in your faces, do everything I possibly could to be rejected, just daring you to abandon all this love stuff, and treat me the way I deserved. It wasn't designed to be any kind of a fair test. They were after ammunition for their cause. It disgusted me." Young shook his head at the memory.

"But against my better judgment, I'd committed myself, so here we were. Before you even left, I was indebted to Spock for my life. I thought, great, they would abandon this ill-conceived project. But no, you and Spock wouldn't let them. I liked you; even more, I liked Spock. Nothing was going the way they wanted it. I tried to make your team hate me; they wouldn't.

"Finally Spock challenged me. Told me to quit playing games, quit trying to do it the way I'd been told, and really let them draw me into their circle. The only way to find out about the conspiracy was to become one of you. So I did. Took me awhile, but I got there. Spock warned me I would be changed, and I am. But it was irresistible."

"The love of Jesus is." Kirk smiled.

"That was the strangest thing about the whole business. After the bigotry of those guys that hired me, I expected your team to really push the Christian thing. They hardly mentioned it. Perón knew I wasn't a Christian; I don't know anybody on Morena who is. The bigots wanted me presented as violently anti-Christian. But your team didn't care. They neither pushed it, nor tried to hide it. They were so refreshingly real - I liked every one of them." Young smiled wryly.

"Gisa's curiosity is what finally did it. Spock answered question after question, til it seemed so obvious and natural a thing. I've no idea what it's going to be like as a Christian on Morena. They may kick me out, in which case I'll be free to be a spy all the time. But Nona needs stability, so we'll settle somewhere, I'm sure."

"There will be grace for wherever God wants you, even Morena. Thanks for the story, Josh, and you're right, it doesn't change a thing. I had guessed most of it anyway. Didn't know Perón was in on hiring you, but I'm glad. The Fleet works a lot better than it might, 'cause God's got Perón in a position of power. He was a Christian long before I was. Never made a secret of it either. He and I have been friends a long time. In fact, it was probably partly because of him that I was open to the Lord when I so desperately needed Him."

xxxx

Spock had spent most of the past two days helping Scotty with repairs. It gave him a focus, got him out of his quarters, and didn't distract Kirk too much, because most of it was very technical. But that night, neither of them could rest. About 0100 they gave up attempting it and decided to spend the rest of the night together, in public. Not that there was much of anybody around. But they would be in public places. They played chess in the Rec room, forcing themselves to carry on audible conversation, though it felt ridiculous. The game itself was a farce, because Spock knew all of Kirk's plans without being told. But they would have cheerfully given up playing chess, if that were the only reason to sever the link.

They completed the chess game down to the last move. On the face of it, Spock won. But in reality, neither of them had won or lost. Winning was not the reason they had played. The real battle was still being fought. No way to know how they were going to win it.

A match of unarmed combat was next. Again, a contest it wasn't; more like a dance. After the first hour, Spock began to teach Kirk what Young had taught him about moving silently. Two hours later, they quit, went for a swim, showered, and had breakfast. It was 0615.

"How soon do you think the circus will convene? I wonder if McCoy is up yet. I want to get this over with, as much as I dread it. Do you think they'll want to study all day? Do we have to survive another night of waiting?"

"Perhaps several more. I do not know."

"Several! I don't know if I can."

"This is a different vision of impossible than you are used to. But it is conquered the same way."

"Minute by minute, by the grace of God. Thanks, Spock."

At that moment, McCoy walked in.

"Good morning, Doctor."

"Bones, is the circus here yet?"

"When neither of you answered my call to your quarters, I wondered if you'd flown the coop. Wouldn't blame you, in fact. The Vulcans got in late yesterday. The Fleet contingent arrive this afternoon. I figured you would be up, so I told 'em they could come on over at 0700. They'll probably want privacy, darkness, incense, and candles. The Fleet doc's will want bright lights, medical equipment, sterile conference rooms. What I want to know is what you guys want. They know this is not easy. I'll push for making it as comfortable as possible. So talk to me." McCoy sat down with a plate full of his favorite Southern biscuits and gravy.

"I don't think the environment matters, Bones. Neither of those scenarios sounds comfortable to me, but I'm the one that hates physicals, remember, so comfort isn't really the issue. I want them to treat us like people, not animals, aliens, or experimental specimens. If they can do that, we'll get along just fine, and I'll tell them anything they want to know, as honestly as I know how."

"Do you want anybody else there, for moral support or whatever?"

"You mean like, present a united front against the enemy?"

"Something like that, yes. I feel just a bit like they're invading my territory. Ridiculous, but there it is."

"Well, I don't object to an audience, but I don't feel like we need it, for the talk and study phase of this. We already talked about what's needed for the surgery itself. I expect them to observe, but not participate. So come along if you want, it's fine by me."

McCoy nodded and took a generous drink of orange juice. "Spock, what about you?"

"The Vulcan healers will assume that I want privacy. But they did not come here to be comfortable. And my quarters are rather small for a conference of four or more people. Briefing room 3 seems a better choice. We can adjourn to Sickbay for the use of medical equipment, as necessary. You, Doctor, are welcome to attend any and all sessions, as is Dr. M'Benga, and any other interested personnel. If the audience becomes too large for Briefing room 3, we will move."

"Why, Spock? I know you don't like this. Why make it more difficult by inviting the curious?"

"Difficult to explain, Doctor. There is a small but significant difference between scientific curiosity and gawking curiosity. I do not believe there are many gawkers aboard this vessel. Anyone who comes will be there because they care about us as people. The policy of transparency begun two years ago is something the Vulcan healers will not understand. But they need to see it, because it is part of the solution."

"We'd better move to Briefing room 1 then, because I know a number of people already that asked me if they could attend. If you'll excuse me, I'll make a few calls." He abandoned the rest of his breakfast and hastened out the door.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Kirk, Spock, and Young met the Vulcans in the transporter room. After the ritual salute, Spock made the introductions.

"Captain Young, Captain Kirk, may I present the Healers, Srael, T'Mai, and Stelok. May you live long and prosper."

Srael spoke for them. "Thank you, Spock. Peace and long life for you as well."

Young took over host duties. "Welcome aboard. If you will come this way, we can talk in a more comfortable environment. I regret that ship's temperature is not closer to your planet's norm, but we can at least sit down."

"Of course, Captain. After you."

Spock and Kirk brought up the rear.

*You didn't tell me one of them was female.*

*I did not think it relevant. As a matter of note, they cannot hear what we say, but they sense the link in the air.*

*Whether or not we say anything?*

*I believe it is stronger with spoken thoughts.*

*So does that mean you don't want me to say anything?*

*Not necessarily. I am merely informing you.*

*For the sake of everybody else, let's keep most of it audible.*

There were over 20 people in the briefing room, including Perón, Sullivan and Randy. Kirk was overwhelmed. The Vulcans were shocked and not very happy. Young seated them at the front of the audience. The chairs for Kirk and Spock faced them, focusing the audience's attention on the two of them, rather than the Vulcans. Kirk sat down and tried to hide his amusement at their discomfort.

Srael addressed himself to Spock. "I hardly think this an appropriate environment for the subject we have come to discuss."

"I chose this environment for reasons that will become clear as we proceed."

"You, Spock, chose this?"

"I did, though I did not expect as large a response as this with only 21.7 minutes notice. Nevertheless, they are here because I invited them. You are here to learn. Do not be restricted because of the audience. Ask what you will, and we will answer."

"Very well. Please describe the procedure by which you established the link."

Spock launched into a detailed and technical explanation. Kirk studied the audience. Young was on the end of the front row. Perón and Sullivan were next to him. Then McCoy, M'Benga, and Chapel were directly behind the Vulcans. On the far right were Scotty and Tanzer. The second row contained Chuck and Randy, Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov, and Eric and Carl. The top row held four Science officers from Spock's department, Security Chief Thompson, and two of Scotty's engineers.

Srael began to ask questions about Spock's explanation. Kirk sensed he didn't believe Spock had done a proper job of it.

He interrupted. "Excuse me for asking a dumb question, but why don't you come see for yourself?"

Short silence. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?" Srael seemed incredulous.

"Yes. Why not? Is it dangerous? Are you afraid of us? Or am I just being rude and disrespectful?"

T'Mai stepped into the awkward gap. "Vulcans tend to be stiff and formal when discussing difficult topics. We are not afraid of you, nor is it dangerous. It did not occur to us that you would permit such a thing."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"The others in your position were very protective of their link. They would not consider joining with anyone else. I tried."

"You were with those who died," Kirk guessed quietly.

"Yes. That is part of why we are having trouble believing your link is the same. You are not behaving as we expected."

"We read the reports, so we're forcing ourselves to battle the avoidance stage. But even before that, we weren't protective of the link. So come, either or both of us, one or all three of you."

"Spock, does he speak for you as well?"

"Yes. We have nothing to hide. You are welcome."

Srael stood. "I will be brief, only looking at the structure of the link."

"Look at anything you want," offered Kirk.

Srael approached Spock, ignoring Kirk. "I must look at the link from both sides."

Spock stood to meet him. "It is not a problem. We are not afraid of you."

Srael placed his fingers on Spock's face, and Kirk heard their greetings. He felt Spock open himself to the probe. He was aware that this was much more difficult for Spock to do than Kirk found it. Nor was it painless. As Srael found and examined each point of the deep connection, he left behind a trail of agony, simply by touching the points. Kirk began to get an inkling of what the severing was going to feel like. He prayed for Spock.

Some ten minutes later, Srael withdrew, stared at Spock for a moment, took a deep breath to compose himself, and turned to Kirk, who stood and smiled warmly.

"Do you still consent to this?" Srael asked.

"Yes. Do not fear. Mine is not an organized, brilliant mind, but Spock finds it easy to mess with. You won't have any trouble."

Srael was startled and took a half-step backwards. "Did Spock tell you?"

"No. Tell me what?"

Srael turned back to Spock, who offered him an explanation of sorts.

"Jim Kirk is unlike other humans you may have encountered, just as I am unlike other Vulcans. That is why I do not know if you will learn anything here that will be applicable to others. Nonetheless, we do not forbid you to study. Please continue."

Srael stepped up to Kirk and initiated the contact.

*Welcome, Srael. Probe all you want, and don't worry about me. I'll be fine.*

*To defend the mind is instinctive. Yet you have no struggle against my presence or my purpose. Do you not know that I could destroy your mind?*

*The possibility had not occurred to me, but neither does it frighten me to contemplate it. I need no defense against you.*

Without further delay, Srael probed to the deep places. His touch was different than Spock's - more weight, less finesse. Not exactly heedless plowing, but not gentle. He wondered if each one's touch was unique. The agony of touching the connections was more intense, but he did not shrink from it, nor hinder Srael's progress. When he withdrew, Kirk opened his eyes and smiled. Srael stared for a moment, then returned to his seat.

"I concede it is a properly executed death link. My apologies, Spock. You were obviously thoroughly trained. However, I confess this meld has raised more questions than it answered. Nonetheless, I will address myself to the matter at hand. Tell us, if you would, what you have done about the avoidance stage. I understand the crisis for which you established the link was over several days ago."

Kirk replied. "We'll answer that, but first a couple of other things. What questions did the meld raise for you? Even if they do not appear to be related, they may help you to understand us, and therefore, understand how we deal with this. Secondly, I wonder if your colleagues would like a similar opportunity. There are things you can find out in a meld that are pretty hard to communicate in words."

So they repeated the operation with T'Mai and Stelok. T'Mai danced through his mind, and Kirk found himself laughing. Stelok was a surprise. His touch felt more like an ooze than a step. But he refused to go anywhere without an escort. With the others, Kirk had stepped back and let them do as they willed. Not Stelok.

*It is a matter of principle, Captain. I will go where you take me, but nowhere else.*

*If you insist, all right. I assume you want to see the connection points. Hang on, here we go!*

Kirk dived straight for the deepest levels. He found it was possible to experience self-inflicted mental agony. And the agony of his own touch was worse than that of the others. He fleetingly wondered why, but didn't bother to ask. It didn't really matter. After showing Stelok each connection site, they swam up to the surface. Kirk was reminded of the wells in the minds of First and his people. But this swimming was not overly long. En route he asked Stelok if there was anything else he wanted to see.

*Whatever you want to show me.*

*There's two things that might broaden your view of my relationship with Spock.*

He took Stelok to the site of the aching void of lost memories and replayed for him the making of that wound and the healing of it. Then he took Stelok to the site of the sea of agony where Spock had planted the seed of hate. He replayed that entire sequence so Stelok would get the perspective on why they had done what they had. Lastly, he showed him the healing that had occurred when he became a Christian.

*You are a remarkable person, Captain. Thank you for the parts of yourself that you have given me. I will cherish them.*

*You are welcome. But none of that's a secret. You can tell anyone you wish.*

*Anyone?*

*You heard me. No restrictions.*

Stelok was astonished. Kirk just laughed.

When Stelok had returned to his seat, Srael took up the questioning. "The others kept up a running mental conversation almost constantly. You do not. Why?"

Kirk let Spock field the question. "We agreed before walking into this room to keep our conversation audible for the sake of others present. However, other factors are at work as well. First, we understand each other quite well, and are comfortable with silence. Secondly, this is not a new and unusual experience for us. Not only has this link been in place for almost a week, it is not the first time we have been linked. Third, both during and after the crisis, we have been silent for hours at a time. The primary reason for this was to help Jim cope with the character of this link. During the first hours, he adjusted to the constant background noise of my thoughts. But it is difficult for him to focus on two separate conversations at once. Unless it is necessary, I do not talk to him when he is talking to someone else."

"I see. How do you tolerate being this close to an inferior mind?"

Kirk felt Spock fight a momentary anger at the attitude behind the question. He composed himself and tried to answer the real issue.

"Life is far more than a brilliant mind. In my travels, I have encountered many species, none more fascinating than human, and Jim, far more so, as he is by no means typical of his species. But my relationship with him is not based primarily upon curiosity. From the first days, I discovered that he valued me as a person, uniquely me, not as a Vulcan, or half-human, or any other category. He has never been afraid of me, or intimidated by my mental capacity or abilities. Jim Kirk is a very special friend, and the limitations of his mind sometimes hamper what we must do, but never decrease the value of our relationship."

"His mind is like that of a child. What do you find of value in a child's mind?" Srael continued his pointed questioning.

"In what way do you call his mind child-like?"

"The innocent trust, the lack of fear or defenses. He cannot comprehend what I could do to his mind."

"On the contrary, he does know what you could do. I have done it to him. I am somewhat surprised that you cannot distinguish between a child's mind that trusts because it has never been hurt, and an adult's mind that has been hurt many times, but chooses not to fear it."

Srael was momentarily set back, and T'Mai took over the questioning.

"I too, would have called his mind child-like, but not in the sense of simple, or ignorant. Rather, it felt a bit like a child's playground. He invited me to romp in it, and laughed when I did. Can you expound upon this part of his nature?"

"He laughed because he was joyful that you accepted his invitation. He did not expect you to be that free with him. Your touch felt like dancing to him. He likes you."

"Is that because I am a woman?" T'Mai tilted her head questioningly.

"No, although his enjoyment of the female gender is no secret. It is because you carry less baggage than Srael. You could learn to know him for who he is, not as a particularly annoying specimen of the human species."

Kirk laughed aloud at Spock's summation of Srael's opinion of him. T'Mai raised an eyebrow. Srael did not respond at all. Stelok took this opportunity to adjust the conversation.

"I would like to hear from Captain Kirk himself. You do not appear offended by the statements made about you. Please tell us what you think of all this."

"I have been letting Spock field the questions, because you are more comfortable talking to him than to me. I trust him to speak for me. Ask as many questions as you wish. The more you understand us, the better. And don't worry about offending me. I know who I am, and your approval or disapproval does not move me. Furthermore, I know Spock, and you will not move him with your disapproval either."

Srael found his voice. "Why do you think we disapprove?"

"I don't have to read your mind to know that. I imagine everybody in this room knows it. You disapprove of the audience. You think Spock is not acting like a proper Vulcan should. You regret that he was taught the mind disciplines at all, since he obviously doesn't know enough to keep them sacred. By which you mean, only for Vulcans. But if Spock hadn't been willing to use those skills for the good of others who were not Vulcan, this vessel and her crew would not be here. I further submit that if you cannot lay down your disapproval, you will not be able to learn anything from us, and you might as well go home now."

Kirk had been addressing himself directly to Srael. He had not raised his voice or given any other sign of anger. Nor was he angry. But Srael needed to get past his disapproval, and they didn't have time for political diplomacy. Srael held his gaze for several long moments. When he spoke, it was Kirk's turn to be astonished. It was in Old High Vulcan. Spock gave him an instantaneous translation.

"I am chastised. Forgive me. I submit to you, my teacher."

*Spock?*

*He is mocking you, pointing out to me that you are in no position to correct him. The proper action for you as his teacher is to initiate a meld wherein you will explain and show him his error. He knows you cannot do that. However, if you give me control of your hand, we could do it.*

*It's yours.*

Kirk rose and approached Srael, who could not hide his disbelief. He tensed to fight back, while not really believing Kirk could do this. Kirk half-raised his arm. Srael leaned backward.

"You spoke the words of submission. Do you retract them?" Kirk raised an eyebrow in Spock-like style.

Srael set his chin stubbornly. "No. You cannot do this."

"But if I can, do you submit?"

"You can't."

"If you do not retract the words, I will meld with you."

Srael said nothing, but straightened in his chair, his eyes daring Kirk to attempt it. He raised the arm to Srael's face, Spock placed the fingers, and contact was made.

*Hello, Srael.*

*But- but- you can't do this!*

Srael was busily trying to erect shields.

*Relax, Srael. I'm not here to invade your mind.*

*I do not understand how this is possible. Humans do not have the capacity.*

*No, but Spock does.*

*There is only one way that might be done, and I know of no instance in which it was tried.*

*We've done a lot of things nobody's ever done before. So, now that I'm here, I want you to do a complete and thorough probe of my entire mind.*

*Everything? Spock consents to such a thing?*

*I didn't ask him. Why does it matter?*

*If Spock is controlling the link, I cannot probe your mind if he does not allow it.*

*He'll allow it. He won't break the link until I tell him to.*

*You still haven't asked him.*

*I don't need to. And you're stalling. Get busy.*

*The truth is that I don't want to.*

*I know that. I don't know why not.*

*A Vulcan healer's task is to take the pain of those he helps. It is said that humans carry much soul pain. It can be overwhelming.*

*Well, I'm not carrying any at the moment, and if I were, I wouldn't be giving it to you in any event.*

*How can you not be? The trauma of the situation you are in is severe.*

*The only thing I'm concerned about right now is you. I can't force you to do this probe. But if you don't, I'm going to kick you out of this briefing room. And that I do have the authority to do.*

Reluctantly, Srael began to probe. As he encountered memory after memory that held no emotional pain, he began to believe. It took him over 20 minutes to do what Spock could do in ten. But finally he was finished.

*I'm sorry to make you look at all that, but I saw no other way to get past your preconceived opinions. Now perhaps you will be able to see us as two people with a problem to solve, rather than a human and half-Vulcan who've gotten themselves into a mess you don't want any part of.*

*I will concede that you have as much experience with the mind-meld as any five non-healer Vulcans put together. And you have experienced more bizarre mental gymnastics and surgery than anyone I know. In spite of the data you have given me, I still do not understand Spock's relationship to you. But I will try to avoid voicing my preconceptions about what you are capable of. I thank you for the education.*

*You are welcome. No one understands Spock and me, not even us. But I guarantee, if you stick around, you'll know us better by the time this is done.*

Spock withdrew, Kirk opened his eyes, lowered his arm, and smiled at Srael.

"You couldn't have planned and practiced that in advance."

"He can take complete control in seconds. Why would we need to practice one hand?" Kirk asked.

Srael nodded, conceding the point. Kirk returned to his chair. Young stood and suggested a short break.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Kirk spoke briefly with several in the audience, starting with Perón. "I appreciate your being here, Jorge. But this is going to go on for quite a while yet. And the finale is not going to be at all pretty. You don't have to stay."

"But I'm going to. And it's not just for political reasons."

"Thanks, Jorge. Pray for Spock."

"I'm praying for both of you."

Sullivan heard the last line. "I may become a pray-er too before this is over."

"Sullie, the same goes for you. I appreciate your being here, but you don't have to stay. Nothing about this is going to be a performance."

"I'm staying, so don't waste your breath."

"Okay, but I warned you."

Eric and Carl were the only other ones he had time for. They revealed that McCoy had asked them to help with this.

"Ah, so you'll be holding me down."

"If necessary, Captain," Eric answered.

"For this, it's Jim, and I can't guarantee you won't have anything to do. Follow McCoy's orders, and don't worry about hurting me, all right?"

"Yes, sir," Carl replied.

"Looks like break time is over. I'll see you later."

Spock began the next session with an explanation of their tactics for dealing with the avoidance stage. T'Mai asked the first question.

"You realized what you were doing and simply stopped doing it," she marveled. "How do you account for your ability to do this when others could not?"

"We had the advantage of having read the reports and so recognized the symptoms for what they were. But a major element of the difference is Jim Kirk's personality. I have been told that my father and I are unusually stubborn in comparison with other Vulcans. Jim is more stubborn than I. For example, last night we played a game of chess. He insisted we do this, not for our enjoyment, or to pass the time, but because he fights the battle on all fronts at all times. We sat at a table on the Rec Deck for over an hour, going through the motions of the game, conversing audibly throughout, even though no one saw or heard us, since the area is not usually frequented at 0130 ship's time."

"That is why you invited the audience, then?"

"It is one of the reasons. To discuss this at all is difficult. In front of an audience of well-meaning but somewhat ignorant friends and colleagues, much more so. I do not wish to admit my weakness even to myself, much less to those who do not understand me. However the heart of this issue concerns relationship. If we survive the severing, it will be in part due to the relationships represented by the people in this room."

"Can you explain that?"

"Jim and I do not live in a vacuum. We refuse to isolate ourselves. While we demand things of ourselves and each other that we would not ask of the others, we are aware of and supported by the team in most of the things we do. Some of it is practical assistance. Much of it is what the humans call moral support. The Vulcans who died had isolated themselves, either thinking that they needed no help, or afraid to ask for it. We are accustomed to asking for and receiving help, and we are not afraid to admit our need for it."

Spock's quietly voiced explanations were an affront to Srael's sense of propriety. "How do you plan to avoid the violent hysteria?" he scoffed.

"I don't know that we will. The violence is one of the things we may need help controlling."

"What other things do you anticipate needing help with?" T'Mai asked gently.

"There are three stages to this event. The violence is only the first. The second is the severing itself. Only God can help us with that. The third stage is the recovery. Picking up the pieces and going on with life may be the most difficult part of the entire situation. There are people in this room that have strong enough relationships with us, that they will not permit us to wallow in depression until we kill ourselves."

Stelok inserted a question. "Explain what you mean by God helping with the severing."

"God is the name I am using for the Supreme Being Who created the universe. I have witnessed His miraculous intervention in my life and of those around me on numerous occasions. We need a miracle here, and I do not believe we will survive without it. I have never attempted anything more difficult, and I am not primarily referring to the task itself, though that is by no means easy. You cannot imagine what it is like to contemplate severing this link. My soul is not capable of severing this link. Yet it must be done, and no one else can do it for me, except God."

The questioning went on for another two hours, with Spock answering most of it. Srael asked no more questions, preferring instead to just listen. Kirk offered T'Mai another meld when she was having difficulty understanding how God could do things in them. She rose and approached Kirk rather than Spock.

"You intrigue me, Captain. I would meld with you, if you will."

"Of course. I invited you."

*Her wording signifies that she expects you to initiate the meld.*

Kirk raised his arm and once more let Spock have his hand. Contact was made.

*Welcome, T'Mai.*

*So you really can do this. Srael has said nothing.*

*Spock is doing it, using my fingers.*

*You can let him do that? With no apparent effort?*

*We've done it before. You're here to see God at work in my life. You want to go exploring, or do you want a guided tour?*

*A guided tour could be selective.*

*You're on your own then. Look at anything and everything. I'm here if you have any questions.*

She danced from memory to memory. But unlike Srael, she allowed herself to feel what he had felt during each event. By the time she was done, she was full of emotional pain, but she also understood the joy in a way Srael never would.

*I thank you for allowing me to see, to feel, to share.*

*You are welcome, but surely you don't mean to take all that pain with you.*

*Do not distress yourself. I am used to this.*

*T'Mai, you didn't find that pain here. You made it up. You have a good imagination - it matches the reality pretty closely. But there's no reason for you to carry that pain. I don't need it and neither do you.*

*A healer's task is to carry the pain of others. It will dissipate.*

*I could get rid of it for you right now, if you are willing to let it go.*

*How, by giving it to Spock? That's hardly fair.*

*No. Jesus will take it.*

*Jesus is your name for God.*

*Yes. He will take it if I ask Him to, but only if you are willing.*

*Whether or not I believe in his existence?*

*Yes.*

*All right. Go ahead.*

*Jesus, please take all the soul pain T'Mai is carrying. All of it. Thank you, Lord.*

She gasped. *Oh! How- how did you know? It is all gone! I carry residual pain all the time. I have not been this free in years!*

*I didn't know; Jesus did. This is the God that will get us through the severing. However, lest you start to wonder if this really happened, I want you to link with both of us and see for yourself that none of us has that pain you were carrying.*

So she did. With one hand on each face, she probed thoroughly and found none of her residual pain. But she had another question.

*Why do I not feel your trauma over the severing? It is not possible that you do not have any.*

Spock answered for them. *We are aware of it with every thought. If we allowed it to build, we would be fighting hysteria even now. But we give it to Jesus constantly, so I do not expect hysteria to be a problem until we are much closer to the event.*

It was almost 1300 when they broke for lunch. They would reconvene in two hours with the Fleet doc's. Kirk assured all and sundry that they didn't need to return. He and Spock were doing fine. No one opted out, though most had administrative duties during the break. Spock went to Engineering, intending to work on repairs.

*I cannot eat, and I may as well be doing something productive.*

*You go ahead, Spock. Goodness knows what I'll find to do. If I go to the Bridge, I'll just be pestering. Ditto Sickbay. But if I sit in my quarters for two hours, I'll be punching holes in the bulkhead.*

*May I recommend the punching bag in the gym?*

*I just might. Young's probably entertaining the Vulcans, but I've seen enough of them for awhile, so I'm not going to the mess hall.*

Kirk went for a long swim. After tiring himself, he lay on his back and floated, idly looking at the ceiling lights. He dozed. Suddenly a large beach ball landed on his belly, hard. His reaction was pure instinct. Grabbing the ball and kicking his feet, he launched himself half out of the water and hurled the ball back from whence it came. Tanzer caught the ball, and squatting at the edge of the pool, laughed at him. Kirk splashed water all over him, but Tanzer neither retreated nor stopped laughing.

"Just wanted to see if your reflexes still work. They do. Want to talk?"

"Yes. Give me five to shower up. Your office?"

"I'll be there."

Kirk sat down in Tanzer's office, again fully dressed. Tanzer had put on a dry uniform, because Kirk had really soaked him.

"Sorry about the drenching, Harb. I was feeling ornery."

"I asked for it. Did it on purpose. Jim, you don't give yourself enough outlet to relieve stress. The Pellinger's are few and far between."

Kirk grinned, then sobered. "I enjoyed that far too much, Harb. Dangerous to let that kind of thing out. Anyway, have you got any words of wisdom for this mess?"

"Why don't you just talk for a bit. We've got an hour. What are you thinking, feeling, whatever comes out."

"I feel a little like this is the eye of the storm. We weathered the first half, but the Fleet doc's'll be worse. Not even sure how, and I'm sure I'm biased, but I hate being condescended to. The Vulcans just think all humans are inferior. The Fleet doc's don't have that excuse. I don't want to get mad, but I might. And we can't resort to mind-melds, 'cause they can't do that."

"Spock can."

"I don't want to ask him to do that. Vulcans is one thing. The Fleet doc's'd probably freak out. It's not worth it. We'll stick to audible communication. But if I'm getting hot under the collar, just clear your throat at me or something."

"Maybe they need to see you get mad."

"They'll see enough emotion before this is over, but not that way. Tell me not to waste my energy."

"Can you talk about the severing?"

"It's hard to put coherent thought to that. It looms like a big, hairy monster to a three-year-old child. Physically it's going to be pretty bad. I don't know if it'll knock me out, or even if retreating into unconsciousness will affect it at all. But given where we've been, the physical pain is no big deal, even if it's absolutely awful.

"It's the soul pain that's a challenge to even think about. I don't know if you can imagine being in constant contact with someone, so close you don't have to say anything. You know what he thinks, how he feels, you even feel what he feels. You can voice your thoughts mentally, for clarity, but you don't have to. He knows what you think almost before you do. Breaking that connection feels like twisting and ripping out your guts. Dying would be easier."

"Spock thinks what comes after that will be even worse?"

"Think of it as being in a deep well, wishing you could die, having no reason to come out of it, trying to convince yourself that life is worth patching the pieces together so you can pretend to be functioning."

"Jesus is the reason life is worth living."

"I know that. I'm just trying to tell you what it feels like. The only way I'm going to survive this is if Jesus in me is stronger than the soul pain. And everything I just said goes double for Spock. At least."

"Well, I don't know that I have any wisdom for you, Jim. But thanks for sharing anyway. Helps me know how to pray."

"It helps to have voiced it. Makes talking to the Fleet doc's marginally easier. So thanks, Harb. I better force myself to eat something. It's going to be a long night."


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

The crowd in the briefing room had more than doubled. It was standing room only, and Kirk could barely get in the door.

*Spock, is this open invitation getting out of hand?*

*Not if they really wish to be here.*

Young called for quiet.

"Good afternoon, people. This show of support is most gratifying. However, those of you who are here solely to express your support may be excused at this time, so as to make room for those who really want to hear the proceedings."

No one moved. Young turned to Kirk.

"Hangar deck's hard to hear; Rec deck's got other traffic. Is there a lecture hall on the base we could borrow? Randy, where are you?"

"Here, sir." He was standing in the back. "There's three possibilities: one seats a hundred, another 500, and the big one seats 2,000."

Kirk turned to Young. "Call and see if we can get the small one. Maybe in an hour. We can do the medical exams first."

Young used the wall intercom and was back in three minutes with an affirmative. So they adjourned to reconvene in one hour on the base. Meanwhile, the Fleet doc's, McCoy, Chapel, M'Benga, Kirk, and Spock all went to Sickbay. Kirk suffered the medical exam and various tests in silence. At least all the scars were gone, so he didn't have to put up with their being appalled. Of course, they gave no opinions, just took readings, poked and prodded, ordered more tests, and muttered to themselves. There were five of them, and they had him and Spock in adjoining rooms. McCoy posted himself in Kirk's room, M'Benga in Spock's room, and Chapel ran errands. The doc's flitted from one room to the other, and conferred in low tones in the corridor.

After they'd done all the basics, as well as a bunch of stuff Kirk didn't consider basic, they finally began to run tests related to the current situation. First they had to prove they were really linked. Kirk was handed a pad with a column of numbers on it, and told simply to look at it. Then they asked Spock to read the numbers. They repeated the test with Kirk reading what Spock held. Then they tried it again with a message printed in Vulcan.

"Do you read Vulcan, Captain?"

"No, but Spock does. You want me to tell you what this says?"

"No, just look at it please."

Kirk was getting bored.

"How much longer, Bones?"

"They've got ten minutes."

*Spock, tell them to give you a message in Klingon.*

The doc's trooped in to hear Kirk read what was in Spock's hand.

"It's a Klingon proverb." He read it first in Klingon, then gave the translation. "All roads lead to chocolate."

As they began to leave again, Kirk decided he'd had enough.

"Look guys, you've time for one more test, so make it a good one."

They looked up in surprise.

"That's right, you're not running this show; I am. You get one more test, then I'm walking out of here. Anything else you want to do will have to be done in front of the crowd with portable equipment."

They looked at McCoy, who nodded his head, then back at Kirk. One of them finally spoke.

"We have only begun to study. What is this crowd you had gathered?"

"Spock invited any interested parties to witness the proceedings. The Vulcans were no more happy about it than you. We have allowed you one hour for tests that require the equipment of Sickbay. That's all you get. The rest of this circus will be in front of the crowd."

"Why?"

"You can ask that there. Time's running out. You want one more test, you better get busy."

They hooked up the brain scanner again and told Kirk to talk to Spock. They even told him what to say.

"This is ridiculous. He heard what you said at the same time I did. I'll talk to him, but don't tell me what to say."

*It makes me mad. They think they know what they want to know, but they're clueless about the whole thing. They don't know enough to ask questions instead of wasting time testing the wrong things.*

*You are more patient with Vulcan preconceptions than with these doctors. However, it is essentially the same problem. They do not understand. Perhaps these understand less than the Vulcans do. Nonetheless, we will help them to learn, if they are willing to be taught.*

xxxx

Ten minutes later, they were gathered in the lecture hall on Starbase 7. Kirk and Spock stood facing the crowd. The Fleet doc's were in the front row of the audience. Again Young opened the meeting.

"Thank you all for your patience. Let me introduce the panel of doctors, from left to right: Peterson, Roanc, Tuvain, Borsch, and Smith. You may ask questions or request test data that can be supplied in this room. You may address your question to either or both of them. Please make your questions as specific as possible. Be aware that the answers you get will be truth as they see it, regardless of political or diplomatic niceties. Dr. Peterson, you get the first question."

"I was under the impression we were here to make a complete and thorough study of this phenomenon. I didn't come here for a panel discussion." He stared his challenge at Kirk.

"That isn't a question, but I'll answer it anyway. As Starfleet officers, we are subject to the medical dictates of the CMO of the ship to which we are assigned. That person is Dr. McCoy. Some of you may outrank him, but in this situation, his word is law. He advised us yesterday that you were coming. We agreed that another two days would not adversely affect the situation. That does not mean that another week would have no affect. I remind you that this affair is primarily about severing the link, not studying it. Dr. Roanc, do you have a question?"

"Yes. You said we could ask about the crowd."

Spock explained the purposes of inviting the crowd. Tuvain asked the first real question.

"Can you explain the nature of this link, and how it is different from the usual Vulcan mind-meld?"

Spock fielded this question also. The panel began to ask reasonably intelligent questions. Even Peterson buried his anger and voiced a few questions. But after two hours, it was clear they still had little grasp of what the severing was going to entail.

Young, Kirk, and McCoy held a brief conference.

Young began. "It's 1800. Everybody needs a meal break."

Kirk pointed out, "To get equal time, we owe them another three hours."

McCoy was blunt. "What shape will you be in by 2200?"

"Better than tomorrow."

"How much sleep did you get last night?"

"None, and I won't sleep tonight either."

"All right, we do this tonight. If nobody gets any sleep, that's their problem. My concern is you. Jim, don't give me that haunted look."

"Just tell me it's not right now."

"Jim, it's not right now. You have several hours yet. Young, announce that meal break, but tell Eric and Carl to stay here. Then if you'd send someone to get food for the five of us, Jim and Spock are staying in this room."

"Bones, I'm fine." Kirk tried to make it be so simply by voicing it.

"Talk to anybody you want, but don't leave this room. That goes for Spock too."

Kirk chatted with half a dozen, as the room broke up into small groups which made their way out the door. Spock sat on the end of the front row and ignored everybody. Young corralled Eric and Carl. Chuck saw him do it, took one look at Kirk, and volunteered to stay too.

"All right. Send Randy for food. I doubt if Jim or Spock will eat, but the rest of us better. It's going to be a long night."

Kirk paced the floor like a caged animal. Eric and Carl had stationed themselves at the exits. Young and McCoy conferred quietly. Chuck sat and watched Kirk. After half a dozen circuits of the room, McCoy intercepted him.

"Jim, look at me."

Kirk raised bleak and haunted eyes from the floor.

"It's not right now, Jim. It's not even going to be in this room."

Kirk brightened considerably. He took a deep breath, visibly relaxed, and almost smiled. But it didn't last.

"That means I have to get from here back to the _Enterprise_."

"Jim, live in the present moment. All you have to survive is right now. Let the future worry about itself."

"I was doing pretty well until you said it's tonight. I don't want to wait til tomorrow, but all of a sudden, tonight seems very soon."

"But it's not right now. You have a meal and three hours of questioning to get through first."

The food had just arrived. Kirk could smell it.

"I'm not eating." He chuckled bitterly. "Too bad I can't just pretend I'm in Koh's lab, laughing over the fact that the smell of a steak dinner brings on the hunger pains. That was so easy, Bones, and this is not."

"What made it easy?"

"The hunger was a non-issue. I'd already decided I was going to say 'yes' to whatever he did to me. I was after relationship. The rest of it didn't matter."

"Can you say 'yes' to Spock?" McCoy encouraged.

"You mean what he actually has to do - the physical part? I haven't thought about it. Bones, I'm not dreading the physical agony. It'll bother Spock some, but we've done this before. It's no big deal."

"Can you say 'yes' to the emotional agony?"

"I have to," Kirk stated firmly. "Spock can't - won't do it if I don't."

"In the middle of it, can you care more about Spock than about your own agony?"

"Probably. But that won't make it any easier. It's because there's so much caring on a deep level that this is so hard," he admitted.

"Are you thinking your relationship won't survive this?"

"You mean, if we manage not to kill ourselves, that I'll hate him or something? That we won't be able to go back to the way things were? That nothing will ever be quite the same again?"

McCoy nodded. "Any or all of that."

"I am as sure as I can be of anything that I will never, ever hate Spock. This experience has changed us. Things will not be the same. I can hope they'll be better. And I'm not sorry we did this. I just don't know how to survive the night. I don't have the resources to cope with this."

"But you know Him Who does. He'll get you through this, one minute at a time. He loves you both, and He's not going to abandon you now."

Kirk took a deep breath and tried to accept the truth of that. "Thanks for the pep talk, Bones. It helps. You better get something to eat."

Kirk wandered over to Chuck and sat down beside him.

"And what do your beady eyes see in me now, Chuck?" He tried to make light of it, but it was a semi-serious question.

Chuck turned to look him in the eye. "You want to know if it shows."

"On target, as usual." Kirk tried to grin, and half-succeeded.

"Depends who's doing the looking. Peterson hasn't a clue. Some of us can tell it's pretty bad. But I doubt if anybody but Spock knows how bad it really is. How is he?"

"Holding it together. But don't try to talk to him. He's past the point of social chit-chat."

"It's a wonder you aren't." Chuck shook his head in admiration.

"I'm using it as a weapon. He prefers meditation."

"How can he stand there dispassionately answering all those questions? He's not as unfeeling as it looks."

"No. Far from it. A Vulcan giving vent to emotion is violent, or heart-wrenching, or both. But he set himself to put up with this and he'll see it through. He's as stubborn as I am. I know he said otherwise, but I think it'd come down to a dead heat. Anyway, I appreciate your being here, Chuck."

"McCoy asked me to be in your corner, so to speak."

"This isn't a fight, but I'll accept the analogy. Who has he got in Spock's corner?"

"Young."

"That works. Bones is a pretty astute character."

xxxx

When Young reconvened the meeting, Kirk stood looking at the crowd. The place was packed. Apparently, they were the best entertainment for the evening. He observed the sea of earnest faces and decided they really did care. The only place on the _Enterprise_ big enough for all these was the hangar deck. No padded walls. Oh well, they didn't really need the padding. Anyway, it was McCoy's problem; he had other things to worry about. The questioning began again. Trying to explain the emotional aspects of this to the panel of doctors was impossible, but they tried anyway.

After two hours of repeated questions during which both he and Spock gave as graphic verbal descriptions as they knew how, the panel still wouldn't believe it. Borsch would only believe what he saw. Smith was convinced Vulcans had no feelings. Peterson wanted to stick to observable medical facts. Roanc almost came right out and accused them of lying. Only Tuvain seemed to grasp a bit of the reality. Kirk wondered what political machinations had put this panel together. It was almost laughable, but then he was pretty desperate for something to laugh about.

Kirk decided to help them out. "It seems to me that what you need is a closer point of observation. Have any of you ever participated in a Vulcan mind-meld?" All negatives. "In this case, ignorance is hampering your ability to study. I propose one or more of you volunteer for a closer look. And because time is limited this evening, only that volunteer will be permitted any closing questions."

He gazed at each of them in turn, and saw refusal in most eyes. Tuvain was tempted, but not a very bold individual.

"Dr. Tuvain, would you like to volunteer?"

Permission was all he needed. "Yes, I would." He rose and stepped forward. Kirk gestured him to stand in front of Spock. Contact was made.

*Dr Tuvain, I speak to you in the meld, because it is easier for you to receive with clarity, but you will be aware of things we do not say. The memories you see will be perceived in the first person. Do not be alarmed. Your mind is intact and will remain undamaged. There are many possibilities in a meld, but I will not be examining your mind. I will hear thoughts you speak. Are you comfortable enough to proceed?*

*"Yes."* Kirk heard it with his ears, as well as through the meld.

*You do not have to speak with your voice for me to hear. Do you understand the difference?*

*Yes, I think so. Is this what you mean?*

*It is. Now I will show you a few memories. In order for you to comprehend what happens tonight, you must understand the character of our relationship.*

Spock showed him the sequence in which they had gotten saved, the test Spock had created on First's planet, and the restoration of lost memories.

*Now I wish to show you those same memories from Jim's point of view. Come with me.*

They went to the deep places of the connection sites.

*Follow me closely.*

Spock dived into the connection, pulling Tuvain in after him. In the next moment, they arrived in Kirk's deep place, accompanied by an explosion of agony. Kirk dived and skidded to a stop in front of Spock.

*I didn't know you could do that!*

Spock turned to Tuvain. *Notice the character of Jim's emotional response. Surprise, elation at a new discovery, curiosity. You felt some of the pain of our passage. I could not shield you completely. Jim felt an explosion of agony when we arrived. He does not mention it; he hardly notices it in passing. It retains no place in his soul. That is Jim's normal response to pain. Do you sense the truth of my words?*

*Yes. You didn't tell him what you were going to do.*

*I did not want any appearance that we might have arranged this as a performance. Now we will show you Jim's emotional response to the severing. I am shielding myself from it, or this would be too dangerous. Jim, let it go. I will catch you.*

Within seconds, Kirk was on his knees, rocking himself, sobbing and screaming, his fists clawing himself. The force of his emotion sent Tuvain reeling backward. Spock stood his ground, but let it continue for a full minute. Then he reached out and pulled Kirk to his feet.

*Stop it, Jim.*

No response.

*Stop it!* Spock yelled in his face.

Kirk continued to shake and sob, his eyes tightly closed. Spock slapped him in the face, hard. His breath caught, the sob momentarily stilled. A moment later it resumed, only slightly less hysterical. Spock slapped him again.

*Jim, stop it! You must control it. The time is not yet.*

Spock gripped his arms tightly and shook him, then slapped him twice in a row.

*Not right now, Jim.*

Kirk took a deep breath, and another, stopped shaking, and opened his eyes.

*Thanks, Spock.*

Spock let him go, and turned back to Tuvain.

*Jim could have performed that, but that was not a performance. He allowed himself to show you that, only because I promised to pull him out of it. Can you imagine the fiasco if we are both in such a state? And that is before the severing takes place. You begin to see the magnitude of our problem. No one can come to this deep place with us. We must do it alone.*

*We had- I had no idea!*

*I know. That is why you are here. The others may never understand. You, at least, will recognize the depth of what you are seeing. But the situation is by no means hopeless. Look at the memories from Jim's point of view, and see how the Lord works on our behalf.*

Kirk took Tuvain to see the memories, while Spock waited at the connection site. Then Spock took him back through the connection, leaving another agony explosion in their wake. Kirk smiled to himself as he swam upwards. The only way Spock had managed to surprise him was by not thinking about it before he did it. Fascinating, complex creature was Spock.

By the time Kirk surfaced, Spock had withdrawn from the meld. Kirk opened his eyes to find Tuvain gazing at him in frank curiosity.

"That was all in your mind? No one else saw it? But it was real for all of that. I can see a hint of it in your eyes."

"Yes, but before this is over, you'll see it in the physical too. At least some of it."

"If this is really that dangerous, and I'm getting some feel for how bad it is, why sever the link at all? It's not killing you. I've heard you both say several times that if you had a choice, you wouldn't do this. Why don't you have a choice?"

_Trust Spock to have thought this one through thoroughly._ Kirk let Spock answer.

"There are three reasons for severing the link. While it is not presently killing us, the long-term effects on Jim's brain are an unknown factor. It is entirely probable that his brain cannot handle the presence of my mind for a long period of time. Secondly, while Jim has adjusted remarkably, it remains difficult for him to deal with two sets of sensory input. Entirely possible that it would hinder his ability to function at a crucial moment.

"But the third reason is what makes the severing absolutely necessary. This type of connection is called a death link, because if one dies, the other dies. As long as this link is in place, Jim cannot risk his own life without risking mine. That knowledge would hinder him at such decision-making points. He cannot function in his calling with such a millstone around his neck. The link must be severed."

Tuvain turned and walked back to his seat.

Spock stiffened and raised his voice. "I wish it to be known for the record, this link was my idea, and mine alone. I did not advise the Captain of the dangers before establishing the link. The responsibility is entirely mine. If Captain Kirk dies tonight, it will be me who has killed him," he intoned with severe Vulcan calm.

"Spock! If you hadn't, there's no telling how the mission would've turned out. I will _not_ let you take the blame for this. It was the right thing to do, and you know it!"

"I believed it to be necessary, yes."

McCoy was on his feet, moving to intervene. "Gentlemen, please!" Reaching a point in front of Kirk, he turned to the audience. "If Dr. Tuvain has no other question, it being almost 2200, I'm going to turn this gathering back over to Captain Young."

Kirk suddenly panicked. The meeting was over! That meant- but McCoy was in his face.

"Jim, listen to me! Focus on my face! Breathe! That's better. Jim, it's not right now. We'll be going back to the _Enterprise_ in just a bit, but even then, it's not right now. Do you hear me, Jim? It's _not_ right now." McCoy silently but intensely willed Kirk to hang on.

"Bones, you're lying to me. How can it not be now?" Kirk swallowed convulsively.

"Jim, you've got to live in the present. It is not right this minute, and that's all that matters. I promise you, when it's time, I will tell you. Okay?"

"Okay, Bones. Not right now is all that matters." Kirk took a deep breath and tried to hold it together a bit longer.

"Jim, there's something else I need from you before we go back to the ship. I'm going to give you a list of names. I want your audible 'yes' or 'no', giving permission to be in the room with you tonight. And you're answering for both you and Spock, so I don't have to do this twice."

"Bones, I told you-"

"I know, but humor me, and do this anyway. It's not a guarantee they'll be there. But without your permission, they won't be. First name: McCoy."

"Bones, I don't care if everybody in this room is there. You could bring in thousands of absolute strangers, and I wouldn't care. Neither does Spock."

"I know you don't care." McCoy maintained eye contact with Kirk.

"Then why do we have to do this?"

"Because I said so. Jim, if you don't care, then it doesn't matter why, just do it. All right?"

"Okay." Kirk resigned himself to saying 'yes' a hundred or so times, and didn't even listen to the list. Abruptly McCoy turned to Young at his side.

"We have agreement on all twenty-six names."

"Twenty-six?"

"You weren't even listening, were you? I'll bet Spock was. Ask him what you just agreed to."

"I'm just surprised, that's all." Not that it mattered in the slightest, but twenty-six people wasn't a very big crowd, compared to the numbers in attendance so far.

"Now you and Chuck are going to walk to the transporter room and beam over to the ship. Can you do that? I'll be right behind you."

"It's not going to get any easier, so let's go."


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Sulu stepped into point position, right in front of them. Chuck to his left, Bones right behind him, Kirk felt boxed in. He vowed to himself that he would not need any of them to get where they were going. Think about something else then.

Spock followed McCoy, and was accompanied by Eric. Carl brought up the rear. As they exited the lecture hall, Kirk was dimly aware that Young was organizing three more teams of seven. Four times seven is twenty-eight. Twenty-six plus the two of us.

*Okay, Spock, go ahead and tell me. Bones is sneaky.*

*He is using all available means to help. Including his knowledge of how you think. The second team to arrive will include Scotty, Uhura, Chekov, M'Benga, Chapel, Tanzer, and Martin. Third contingent consists of Srael, T'Mai, Stelok, Perón, Sullivan, Randy, and Tanis. Last are the Doctors Peterson, Roanc, Tuvain, Borsch, and Smith, along with Chief Thompson, and Young.*

*Sounds cozy. By the way, you did that to me on purpose, I know, but you're not taking the blame for this.*

*Everything I said is true.*

*Except the killing part. Those who died refused to live. You can't take responsibility for that. And above all, if I can't manage to pull it together, doesn't mean you should die too. Promise me you will not commit suicide on my account.*

*I can make no such promise. It is not my present intention to commit suicide. That is all I can say.*

They had reached the transporter room, and the externals occupied Kirk's attention for a couple of minutes. Once on the _Enterprise_, panic threatened to take over again. But McCoy had anticipated this and again was in his face.

"Jim, breathe. Take two steps. Now down off the platform. Look at me. Listen, Jim. It's not right now. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Bones. Not right now. Where are we going?"

"Just follow Sulu. I'm right behind you."

Kirk forced himself to put one foot in front of the other. He started repeating litanies to himself, as it was better not to let himself think about anything. 'Not right now,' 'Praise you, Jesus,' over and over again. He stared at Sulu's back and tried not to notice where they were going.

_It's obvious we're going to the free fall court._ 'Not right now,' 'Praise you, Jesus,' Don't think about anything. 'Not right now.' The Rec deck was deserted. Had McCoy ordered the place cleared? That wasn't fair, or necessary. 'Not right now.' Don't think about anything. 'Praise you, Jesus.' He faltered at the doorway.

"Keep walking, Jim. Never mind the shoes."

Kirk walked to the center of the room and stopped. 'Not right now.' Young's not here yet. 'Not right now.' 'Praise you, Jesus.' He stooped to remove his boots. Someone took them. He shed his jacket too. Felt Spock do likewise. Almost done with dual sensory inputs. 'Not right now.' He looked up into Spock's eyes. They stood facing each other about six feet apart. Chuck was on his left, Bones on his right. He saw M'Benga step up to Spock's left. When Young appeared on his right, then it would be time.

*Spock, this goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway. I want you to do this. Doesn't matter what it's going to feel like. I don't need you to explain anything, unless you need me to do something. God is in this; He'll do it; He'll pick up the pieces.*

*Jim, I have avoided explaining this to you, because I didn't want to think about it. But I can no longer avoid it. I must tell you, not because you need to know, but because I need to tell it.*

*I'm listening.*

*I have been viciously suppressing the violent hysteria. I must let it express itself before approaching you. If I do not, the violence will be unleashed on you. And this I must not do.*

*Why not?*

*There is not time to explain. Do not let them restrain me, unless I am hurting someone.*

At this point, Young appeared at Spock's right. McCoy spoke quietly.

"Jim, it's time."

"Everybody back off and give us room to move. Unless somebody's getting hurt, no restraints or restrictions. And don't be alarmed if it looks like he's hurting me. Stay out of it. Let Spock do this his way. Don't try to rush him or make this happen. Above all, do what God says to do." Kirk dropped his voice and spoke directly to McCoy. "Thanks for everything, Bones."

"We're here for you, Jim. Don't be afraid to ask for help."

*Jim, I must finish the telling lest I be incoherent later.*

*I'm still listening.*

*During the violence, you may lash out at me, or I at you. It does not have to make rational sense.*

*You mean, this really is going to be a fight?*

*I do not know. But if it is, do not suppress it. Only after all the violence is dissipated do I dare approach you. As you know, the severing itself is awful. Were you a Vulcan, the procedure would be for each of us to go to his connection sites, and at a coordinated point in time, slash all six of them with a knife we create for the purpose. Then we would withdraw from the meld, and the deed is done. They completely ignore the emotional pain involved.*

*I don't know that I can create a knife, but I can certainly slash. What about the emotional pain? Is there anything physical to do about that?*

*Perhaps. But Jim, I do not know that you can do this. It will make the sea of agony seem like a pond. And doing this in the middle of a severe emotional storm is quite different from contemplating it in the present relative calm.*

*Will it kill me?*

*I do not think so. Two years ago, your soul could not tolerate the sea of agony. Now, I do not know; perhaps.*

*If I pass out, can you wait for me?*

*No. Once begun, I must finish, even if I have to do it all myself.*

*So the slashing doesn't have to be simultaneous?*

*There is no data on doing it any other way.*

*But you intended to do it all yourself. Faced with it, however, you wonder if I could help you. It would make it marginally easier emotionally.*

*I am weak,* Spock admitted quietly.

*No you're not, but this thing makes us both feel weak. I would rather help you than pass out and leave all the work for you to do. Can we do anything to keep me conscious?*

*The others slashed all six connections within seconds to accomplish the task as quickly as possible. Perhaps a slower pace would be more tolerable. But you would have to cauterize each wound, lest you get flooded out.*

*How do I do that?*

*Sustained touch of your hand will burn.*

*All right, one at a time, as fast as I can tolerate it. I have another thought, though. My touch feels worse than yours. Could I slash yours and you do mine?*

Spock shuddered. *More difficult to contemplate emotionally. But if it is more doable for you, I am willing. And perhaps it is better emotionally, though not easier.*

*More a sense of doing it together. I agree. But Spock, there's one thing you're not telling me. What would happen if you unleashed the violence on me?*

*I would kill us both in an attempt to avoid having to face this.*

*That serious? Okay, the audience is not going to be very comfortable. But it won't shock me. Go ahead and let it out, Spock.*

xxxx

Chuck watched Jim and Spock stare at each other. He guessed they were talking silently, and unaware of the crowd. There was a fair amount of tension in the room. No one really knew what to expect. He glanced over at Josh. Poised and ready for anything. Returning his attention to Jim, he recalled McCoy's instructions. He was to watch Jim, not Spock, and intervene only if it looked like Jim needed help. Chuck prayed for wisdom.

Suddenly Spock screamed. The sound resembled a panther. Chuck's eyes were drawn to the sound. Spock's eyes were closed, his face contorted in anguish, his body rigid, his fists clenched. Chuck turned back to Jim. He was shaking violently, but otherwise did not move or make a sound. Spock shrieked again, and began prowling the room.

McCoy ordered, "Back against the wall, people. Stay out of his way."

Chuck dodged Spock and managed to stay within range of Jim. On the third circuit of the room, Spock picked up speed and started hurling bodies in all directions. But he was very selective in who he tackled: Sulu and Chekov, but not Uhura or Scotty; Sullivan and Randy, but not Perón or Tanzer; none of the doctors were touched, and he didn't go near the Vulcans.

Chuck was thrown twice, the first time taking him completely by surprise. He was watching Jim, who was not turning to follow Spock's movements. Suddenly, Chuck found himself held aloft for a moment and then hurled at the wall. He picked himself up and returned to station. The second time, he heard Spock coming, but did not turn to engage him. Repetition of being thrown, this time at a different wall.

"Anybody hurt?" McCoy called. "If not, let him go. He knows what he's doing."

Out of the corner of his eye, Chuck saw Josh move in to engage Spock in combat. Jim continued to stand and shake. Spock and Young fought silently, but Chuck had seen them spar frequently, and this seemed more of the same. Perhaps slightly more ferocious, but not out of control. Suddenly Chuck saw Srael appear at McCoy's side. Chuck heard the words clearly.

"He needs an opponent he is not afraid to hurt. I will fight him."

"Jim?" McCoy inquired.

"Yes," was all Jim said.

Srael shed his robes in two swift motions, and stepped into Spock's line of sight. He immediately abandoned Young in favor of Srael. What followed was in a different class entirely from what he'd been doing with Young. Much less finesse, more brute force. Spock screamed again, and began raining vicious blows on Srael. Chuck heard the solid thunk of bodies colliding. He stole a glance or two, since Jim wasn't doing anything.

Srael stood like a rock. Some of the blows, he blocked with a hand or arm. He avoided none of them. When it appeared that Spock was slowing down, Srael attacked, driving Spock back into a frenzy of anger. He did it three times before allowing Spock to collapse in sobs. After some minutes face down on the floor, Spock slowly got to his feet and turned towards Kirk.

The reality of the present moment hit Kirk like a ton of bricks, and he exploded into his own brand of violent hysteria. Actually to Chuck it looked pretty controlled. He screamed and stiffened to rigidity, but it quickly degenerated into sobs as he crumpled to the floor, turned over and pounded the mat with his fists. Without really coming to a full stop, he dragged himself to his feet and turned to face Spock. As soon as Spock took a step toward him, Kirk collapsed to the floor again.

This sequence was repeated twice; the second time Spock did not move forward. Kirk forced himself to take a step, and Spock collapsed on the deck. Kirk turned toward Chuck, his hands covering his face. Chuck stepped up to him, Kirk leaned on him, and Chuck held him tightly for several moments. Through his sobs, Kirk began to talk.

"I can't do this, Chuck. _We _can't do it. Just can't!"

"Jim, stop saying 'can't.' Tell me what you _can_ do."

"Hold me up. Don't let me fall again. Getting up is so hard!"

"Jim, tell me what you _can_ do."

"Refuse to run down the corridor, jump into the pool, and drown myself," Kirk said between sobs.

"What else can you do?"

"I can refuse to leave this room."

"What else?"

"I can keep talking. Helps focus. Not scream."

The sobs were quieter. Chuck began to move, gradually turning Kirk with him.

"Can you do this?"

"Don't let go," Kirk pleaded.

"Where is Spock?"

"Behind you, on the deck."

"What's he saying?"

"He's calling my name, over and over. He wants me to come to him. And I have to, but I can't." Kirk shuddered.

"Does this have to be done standing up?"

"No. Better not to try."

"Can you sit down?"

"Hold me. Don't let me go. Every ounce of me wants to retreat," Kirk whispered.

"That's not true." As Chuck talked, he dragged Kirk forward one more step, turned him, and lowered him to his knees, holding him tightly all the time. "A part of you wants to be here, wants to make this easier for Spock. The part of you that wants to stay is letting me do this to you. Where is Spock now?"

"We're right next to him."

"Now you have a choice. I can lay you down and lie on top of you. You can cling to me while Spock does this. Or I can let go of you now, and you can make yourself lie down and not run away."

"I have to do this. And I won't say 'can't'."

"Stop thinking it. Think 'I _will_ do this.' That phenomenal will-power of yours is right now being reinforced by the supernatural grace of God. You _want_ to do this. You _can_ do this. You _will_ do this. Answer this: do you want to do this?"

"No. I've never wanted to do anything less in my life."

"That's not the real you talking. Find the you that wants to do this. It's there, in you; I know it is. Do _you_ want to do this?"

The sobbing stopped, and Kirk took a deep breath. "Yes."

"Repeat after me: I want to do this."

"I want to do this."

"I will do this."

Kirk said it too.

Chuck repeated the two sentences several times, as he gradually loosened his hold on Kirk. He slipped away completely, and Kirk held fast to his position, continuing to repeat the litany to himself. Half a dozen long breaths later, Kirk threw himself forward onto the deck, flipped over onto his back, closed his eyes, and took another half dozen breaths before picking up Spock's hand and placing it onto his face.

xxxx

*I'm here, Spock. Let's do it.*

*I must reinforce the hand link.*

Spock took control of Kirk's hand without even bothering to officially ask permission. Kirk felt him doing it, and registered a moment of surprise, but no hint of resistance.

*You want both hands?*

*No. Better for you to keep control of the third hand in case I falter.*

*You think I can do anything about it if you falter?*

*Your hand will be a steadying influence.*

*Emotionally, maybe.* Kirk added the third hand and felt the solid weight pressing on his face. *Now what?*

*I create two knives.*

They appeared in Spock's hands and he gave one of them to Kirk. It felt heavy, well-made, long, sharp.

*Does it matter how I do this? Any instructions?*

*As long as the connection is completely severed, it does not matter where you make the cut. You understand these are mental pictures of a non-physical reality?*

*Yes, but it feels physical enough. You make a vicious-looking weapon.*

*I desired an instrument that would make a clean cut with just one slash. Bludgeoning and hacking is unsatisfactory.*

Kirk laughed. *In the middle of all this, you're still Spock.*

*And you are still Jim Kirk. I am glad that you can laugh.*

*Well, let's get on with it. We're stalling.*

*Jim, I will not say goodbye, because I refuse to believe this is the end. However, I do wish to tell you how much I appreciate that you are doing this with me.*

*I'm glad you asked me to. It's much better this way.*

They turned and dived to the connection sites. Kirk was probably imagining it, but he felt the pulse of Spock's emotions more intensely at this level. The fierce reluctance, the loathing of the task facing them, the violent anguish was beyond words. Kirk slowly approached the first site. From here, there was no retreat. It was finally, irrevokably - right now.

He couldn't do it. A thousand and one reasons for not doing it seemed to rise up out of his soul. He desperately wanted to cling to the close fellowship they had enjoyed this week. Furthermore he felt Spock's soul in complete agreement. They would find a way to survive without having to sever this link. Relief flooded his soul They didn't have to do this after all. He looked at the knife in his hand and willed it to disappear. It didn't.

*Spock, make it disappear. We're not doing this.*

*Jim, the decision was made. There is no new data. Do you change your mind based solely upon an extreme reluctance to do that which you had already decided must be done?*

*But Spock, I can't do this! I really, really can't! And I don't think you can either.*

*That is correct. I cannot.*

*So if we can't do it, then this option is out, and we have to figure out a way to survive without severing the link.*

*Jim, I cannot do it, but I know Who can.*

*Lord Jesus, help us! Help me see the reality here, not the deception. I have to know beyond doubt what You want. And when I know it, Lord, help me choose what You want, regardless of what I want.*

Silence for several long moments.

*I'm sorry, Spock. I have been deceiving myself. We do have to do this. I don't feel any more able than I did before. But one thing I do know. Though we sever this link, the connection to Him will never be broken.*

*Thank you, Jesus, for Your inexhaustible power which works in us to do what we cannot. Jim, step up to the connection and raise your arm. When I give the word, cut the connection. No more argument, no more hesitation; just do it.*

*Okay Spock, I'm as ready as I'm going to get.*

*Now.*


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

Kirk's knife arm came down in a quick, hard slash. The explosion of agony staggered him. Green blood squirted his face. He placed his left hand on the wound, and felt the searing pain as Spock did the same to him. A cold wind of desolation shuddered through him.

_My God shall never leave me nor forsake me._

Kirk took his hand from the wound and it did not bleed. He turned away and approached the second site. _Not going to think about this til it's done. It's time for doing, not thinking._

*Ready when you are, Spock.*

*Now.*

The second explosion forced Kirk to his knees. Blood rained on his head and down his back until he got a hand covering the wound. The searing pain made him gasp. Spock had waited to cover Kirk's wound until after his own hand was in place. The desolate wind threatened to be a storm.

_The Lord is a very present help in time of trouble._

The cold desolation retreated, but did not entirely leave. Kirk crawled to the third site, then forced himself to his feet.

*Jim, we can wait a few minutes.*

*If I wait, I think. I won't pass out, I promise you.*

He didn't but it was a near thing. He was drenched in green blood by the time he got a hand on the wound. Spock hesitated even then.

*Do it, Spock. I'm okay.*

The searing pain drove him again close to the edge. And the desolation was now a definite storm that beat upon him. He battled it into submission with Scripture verses. But it stubbornly refused to entirely leave. It was like a sea serpent lurking below the waves, apt to erupt without warning at any time.

By the time the wound was cauterized, Kirk had recovered slightly, so he dragged himself to the fourth site. Three down, three to go. But upon arrival, he could not rise.

*Can I do this from my knees?*

*Jim, if you cannot stand, we should wait.*

*How long?*

*Only a few minutes. You recover quickly.*

*If this is really all soul pain, I shouldn't be passing out.*

*The pain begins in your mind, but it does affect your body.*

Kirk tried again to get to his feet and almost made it.

_Jesus, help me stand up, so we can get on with it._

He tried again and this time made it.

*Ready, Spock.*

*Now.*

Kirk woke up on the floor, sputtering, trying to get the green blood out of his face. He felt his way to the wound and clamped one hand on it, the other wiping his eyes and nose free of it. But there was no fresh searing pain.

*Spock?*

The desolation hit him like a tidal wave.

*Spock, if you're there, prove it.*

It was not possible for Spock to lose consciousness in the middle of this, was it?

*Spock, talk to me. I'm losing it.*

*I am here, Jim. The desolation is overpowering.*

*Spock, cauterize the wound, now.*

The searing pain was reassuring, even as it almost knocked him out again. But the desolation was becoming almost impossible to deal with. There must be some reason why it would not leave. But he could deal with that later. Right now, they had to finish this.

He had dropped the knife when he passed out. He groped in the green puddles until he found it. He tried to wipe off the handle on his uniform, but couldn't find a dry enough patch to do much good.

*You didn't tell me it was going to be this messy. You're as drenched in red blood as I am in green, probably more so. Can't you make it all disappear? If these are mental images, we ought to be able to change them.*

*The benefit is not worth the expenditure of effort required. Other things are far more important than convincing the mind that I am not ankle-deep in red blood. There is more imagined blood in this room than exists in your body. But the mind insists that wounds such as this bleed like severed arteries. So we put up with the mess, grateful the mind does not insist that we die from so much lost blood.*

Kirk slopped through green puddles and made it to the fifth site. Again he could not rise. Again they waited.

*Spock, I know you want to do this simultaneously, but if I did yours first, then it wouldn't matter if I pass out when you do mine.*

*You are not in danger of drowning in it?*

*I could lay on my back. It's not as deep over here as you have.*

*There remains the question of whether I can force myself to do it. The desolation attack is a serious problem.*

*You can't battle it with Scripture?*

*It is as physical a force as the pain is for you.*

*Did you hear me calling you?*

*As from a great distance, and the effect gets more severe with each severed link.*

*How did you get back?*

*I called out to Jesus for help.*

*Then you can do it again.*

*If I am coherent at all.*

*If the other option is to finish this by yourself, which do you choose?*

*I cannot face doing it alone.*

*Then I'm going to stand up and do yours. I'll call you when I'm ready for you to do mine. All right?*

*Yes.*

Without the accompanying agony, Kirk managed the cut and cauterization fairly quickly. But he felt the desolation hit immediately. Rather than fight his own, he prayed for Spock. The cauterization finished, he lay down, the knife at his side.

*Spock, can you hear me? If you can hear me, say something.*

Silence. Kirk raised his voice.

*Spock! Call out to Jesus! He'll bring you back!*

Still no response.

_Jesus, we need you. Bring Spock back to hear the sound of my voice. Fight the desolation for him. Thank you, Lord._

*Spock, can you hear me? Say something.*

*Jim? Is that you?*

*Walk toward the sound of my voice. Praise you, Jesus! Thank you, Lord! You are our deliverer. Spock, is my voice any closer?*

*Yes. Keep talking.*

*Jesus is stronger than the desolation. He's bringing you back to the connection sites. Let me know when you get there. Have you still got the knife?*

*Yes. I believe so. I am here. Thank you, Jim.*

*Thank Jesus. I'm lying on the floor, ready whenever you are.*

The agony explosion was not quantifiable, and Kirk wandered in an ocean of pain for an undetermined length of time. When awareness returned, he was lying on the floor, the knife still at his side.

*Spock, how long was I out?*

No response.

*Spock! Talk to me!*

He had a sudden vision of Spock drowning in red blood.

_Jesus, what shall I do?_

_ Go through the last connection._

Having no idea that he could actually do that, Kirk struggled to his feet, leaving the knife where it lay. He staggered toward the sixth site, an urgency driving him. He dove head first at the connection, felt the agony of passage, and found himself standing in red blood. He looked around frantically. The fresh wound was still pumping blood, uncauterized. Spock was face down in the corner.

Ignoring the wound, Kirk splashed his way to Spock, picked him up, squeezed his chest several times from behind, cleared the blood from his mouth, breathed air into him, and prayed.

*Spock, you aren't dead. Breathe!*

He prayed some more. Finally, Spock coughed twice, took a gasping breath and coughed some more.

*You're alive, Spock! Thank you, Jesus!*

It was several minutes before Spock could talk.

*Thank you, Jim. How did you get here?*

*Through the last connection. Jesus told me to.*

*The desolation hit when you lost consciousness. I did not seal the wound.*

*It's still over there pumping away. You want to do the honors, or shall I?*

*I do not want you to pass out again.*

*I probably won't, but let's both go. You can hold onto me, and I'll hold onto you.*

Spock sealed the wound with one hand and clutched Kirk with the other. Kirk held on with both hands and managed to keep his feet.

*We're not doing the last one this way. Come back with me to your room.*

*The desolation threatens to overwhelm. Do not let go of me.*

Back in Spock's room, they sat on the floor and tried to decide how to finish this.

*The desolation is much stronger here. I cannot fight it.*

*Spock, you must. I will not let you go. Apply that brilliant mind of yours to the problem at hand. How are we going to finish this?*

*The only possibility is together, first one and then the other.*

*Which one first?*

*This one seems marginally more doable, since you retain consciousness. I do not see how we are to survive the last.*

*All right. We do this one first. I left the knife over here on the floor somewhere.*

Spock came with him, and they found the knife with their feet. Moving together to the last site, Kirk held Spock with his left hand, slashed the connection with his right, dropped the knife and sealed the wound. Spock staggered from the pain, but swayed and moaned from the desolation attack. Kirk shouted Scriptures at him, even slapped him in the face to try to bring him out of it. Nothing worked.

He groped for the knife, found it, and began to drag Spock out of there. It was a long climb, but he'd had enough of liquids for awhile, so the idea of swimming out of there did not appeal. He would climb. At first, Spock was no help. Kirk simply carried him. At each level, he put Spock down for a minute to see if he would walk. On the fifth or sixth up, he finally stirred enough to put one foot in front of the other, but otherwise was unresponsive.

After a dozen or so levels, Spock began to walk with some purpose, as if he knew where he was going. But he did not talk or answer questions. Finally they arrived in a room Kirk recognized as the entry to Spock's mind. He turned Spock to face him.

*Spock, I don't know how to get from here into my mind. You have to do it.*

_ Just think it._

Kirk was not sure if that was Spock or the Lord who told him that. Usually he had no trouble distinguishing between the two, but he was pretty stressed. Anyway, whoever said it, he would do it. He pictured himself and Spock in his own entry, and suddenly they were there. _Thank you, Lord._

_If I go alone, I'll pass out and maybe drown. And even if I don't, there's no telling what shape Spock would be in by the time I got back. If I take him with me, I still pass out and we both drown. But at least we do it together. Lord, what am I missing? This seems hopeless._

_You are stronger than you were. You will not pass out. I am giving you my strength._

_ Thank you, Lord. So I should go alone? What about Spock?_

_ For him to have proper closure on this event, he must make the final cut._

*Okay, Spock, let's go. You want to dive or walk?*

*I don't want to go there at all. I don't want to do this. I cannot leave it unfinished, and I cannot finish it. I am overwhelmed. The abyss of desolation - I cannot face it.*

*Spock, I'm not going to pass out. The Lord promised me. You'll be okay, Spock. You can do this.*

*You do not understand. When the last connection is cut, it is finished, ended. Even now, you can no longer hear my thoughts. I will not be able to sustain the meld. You will be alone, as I will.*

*Spock, we knew from the beginning that facing that desolation was what we really didn't want to do. The rest of this, well, there's been a few surprises, but mostly it's been more or less what I expected. But the desolation will not win. It can't. Jesus is more powerful. He's in us, and He will never leave. So even if your soul feels utterly desolate, He's still with you. Can you believe that?*

*I know it to be true, but whether I can enforce that truth in the face of this, I do not know.*

*I do. Jesus in you can do it, and He will. Can you act on your knowledge of the truth, and trust Him to complete it?*

*I must. There is no other way.*

Spock stood and together they dived for the connection site. Side by side, they approached it, stopped and stood, looking not at it, but at each other. Kirk handed Spock the knife.

*I want you to do this, Spock. There's no fear anymore. The Lord is faithful.*

*Jim, this is not goodbye, but thank you for everything.*

*Thank you for risking this, Spock. God will come through. I'm certain of it. Absolutely certain.*

Spock nodded his head, but did not speak. In one swift motion, he turned and slashed the last connection. The agony explosion felt worse than the others, but true to the Lord's promise, Kirk remained aware through it all. Spock fleetingly touched the wound, but not long enough to seal it. He was swept away in the hurricane-force wind of cold desolation. Kirk clung to the wound long enough to seal it before he too was swept away.

xxxx

Chuck had watched the pair for the last hour. Jim had occasionally jerked and convulsed, but otherwise lay still and relaxed. Spock lay on his face, his body full of tension, his free hand tightly clenched. Suddenly, Spock flung himself away from Kirk, rolled over twice and curled up into a tight ball. He rocked back and forth and wailed, a haunting cry of deep loss. Jim slowly turned and curled up in his own pool of misery. His just wasn't as violent as Spock's.

McCoy and M'Benga both had scanners out. The crowd shuffled anxiously, unnerved by the sound of Spock's grief. Chuck and Young both looked to McCoy for instructions.

"Give them a few minutes. They may pull out of it on their own."

Five long minutes later, there was no change. The crowd was more than uneasy. The longer Spock continued to wail, the more unhappy they would be. Chuck and Young joined McCoy and M'Benga for a conference.

Chuck voiced an opinion. "The Security officer in me wants to kick everybody out of here. I don't know how soon anything's going to get better, and there's nothing they can do."

Young objected. "Spock would not kick them out. He said this would be the most difficult stage. And I'm not sure there's nothing we can do."

"The nervous anxiety they're projecting doesn't help though."

"Ignore it," was Young's opinion. "Spock and Jim are the ones we have to help. What shall we do, Dr. McCoy?"

"They're not unconscious. But they're so internally focused that I doubt if any external input would reach them. So you can talk, yell, hold them, or slap them silly, but I don't think it'll do any good. M'Benga, any opinions?"

"It does not have the characteristics of a healing trance, nor would I say that he did it on purpose. We could ask the healers for an opinion. However, since they were not able to help others out of this, I do not know that any opinion they would offer should be considered valid and useful."

"We need God's wisdom. Josh, would you like to pray for us?" McCoy asked.

"I think what we need is a team for spiritual warfare. The devil's going all out for these two, and he must not be allowed to win."

"You're onto something. Go for it, Josh," encouraged McCoy.

Young turned and addressed the crowd, yelling to be heard over Spock. "We want a team for spiritual warfare. If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't volunteer for this. Even if you're a Christian, you may need to sit this one out. We need solid, experienced warriors here, who are spiritually prepared for battle."

Ten people stepped up to bat and joined together in a circle around Kirk and Spock: Young, Chuck, McCoy, Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, Scotty, Eric, Tanzer, and Perón. Young led them in prayer.

"We are joined together on behalf of our friends and brothers, Jim Kirk and Spock. We have authority in this situation because we were invited here by them for this purpose. Scripture says that the agreeing prayer of two or more believers is more powerful than one alone. We believe together, Lord, that You are more powerful than the enemy's plan in this situation.

"Satan and all your demonic host, hear me! We bind you in the name of Jesus Christ. You may not have Jim and Spock. Loose them! And let them go!"

Immediately, Spock stopped wailing. The onlookers breathed a sigh of relief. Young continued.

"Lord Jesus, we are asking You for a complete restoration for Jim and Spock. Thank you, Lord, that you hear us, and that You will do what we have asked, because we belong to Your kingdom, and we believe Your word."

After a few minutes of silence, McCoy spoke. "I think we should hold the unity of this circle, but we should sit down, as an action of resting in the Lord's ability to do this."

Tanzer concurred. "I'm sensing we shouldn't push them, pressure them into responding before they're ready. Let's just wait."

xxxx

Driven by the force of the wind, Kirk had no idea where he was. He hardly knew who he was. But he did know Whose he was. And somewhere along the way, the fear had vanished. _Thank you, Lord._ After a time, he became aware of climbing, the wind at his back. The higher he climbed, the more the force of the wind abated. It was a cold wind and he was chilled to the bone. He wasn't climbing a mountain; there were steps and corridors. The sense of sight seemed unnecessary, yet he didn't feel blind. Weird.

Where was he, and what was he doing here? And what was there behind and below him that was so cold? Abruptly he stopped still. The wind had ceased. The cold was still there, lurking below, but it was no longer driving him. He turned to look back the way he had come. No path or corridor was visible. Yet his mind saw the room from which he had come. Red blood everywhere, calf-deep on the floor, yet he himself was soaked in green blood.

Memory returned and he knew the place for what it was, remembered what had occurred there, knew the source of the cold wind, felt the absence of Spock. For a moment, desolation threatened to overwhelm. _Wait a minute_, he thought. _What is this? Desolation? Because Spock is gone? Regret, yes. Wishful it could be otherwise, but desolate? No. That was not how he responded. What could have made him that way?_

Enemy action, no doubt. But it was more than that. It was how Spock felt, and he felt it so strongly that Kirk had mirrored it, not knowing it wasn't his own. He wondered if Spock knew. In any event, best get himself put back together and out of here. Spock was going to need help.


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Chuck saw Jim stir, stretch out on his back, and open his eyes. McCoy jumped to his side and Chuck wasn't more than a second behind.

Kirk grinned. "Bones, got anything for a headache?"

Four voices erupted in relieved laughter: Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, and Scotty. Chuck recognized this as Bridge crew humor, but didn't get the joke. He shrugged at Young, who didn't get it either. McCoy obviously got it, 'cause he didn't even bother to answer the question.

"Jim, how are you? And don't say you're fine. I want a real answer."

"Debriefing this will take awhile. For now, the short version. Physically, I feel like I've run a marathon, and I've got a king-sized headache. Mentally, I'm back in the land of the living. I've no idea what snapped me out of it." Kirk shrugged.

"We prayed."

"A king-sized thank you, then. Emotionally, I'm okay. For a long time, I wasn't, but I'm okay now. However, Spock isn't, unless God did a miracle when I wasn't there."

"He stopped wailing, but he hasn't moved, and we haven't tried to disturb him yet. The Lord said not to."

"He needs help, and the only one he's likely to accept it from is me," Kirk stated firmly.

Kirk got to his feet, suppressing a groan at his body's protest, and walked over to him. "Spock, can you hear me?"

No response.

He knelt by his side, placed his hands on Spock's back and prayed, imparting the peace of the Lord to him. Some of the tension eased; Spock turned over onto his side, but retained his fetal position.

"Spock! Can you hear me? Follow the sound of my voice. If you can hear me, say something, Spock."

Still no response.

"I need to get closer. Spock, will you let me do this?"

He lay down in front of Spock and tried to ease Spock's right hand loose from its grip on his leg. But he would not release it.

"Spock, I need your hand. Please let me in. I need to talk to you."

Spock clung firmly to his protective cocoon.

_Lord what shall I do?_

_ T'Mai._

Kirk rose and walked directly to T'Mai, who stood on the far wall, impassively watching, with Srael to her right, Stelok to her left.

"T'Mai, I need to talk to Spock. He's too closed in on himself to let me in. I want you to help me. In exchange for this help, I will show you exactly what occurred between us tonight. And I'm willing to pay you in advance, right now. The help that I want from you is this. I want you to meld with me, take over my hand, and use it to meld with Spock. You stay until I tell you to withdraw. You don't talk to Spock or otherwise make your presence known to him, unless he asks for proof of my method of communicating. Will you do this?"

"Why do you ask me, and not either of my colleagues?" T'Mai's tone indicated curiosity not affront.

"Because the Lord told me to ask you specifically. Why?"

"Neither of them have the skill required to do what you ask. I wondered how you knew that."

"I didn't." He let the obvious conclusion speak for itself.

She raised an eyebrow. "I will do as you ask. And because you volunteer, I will accept your payment, though I would have done it without."

Kirk grinned. "But you would like to know, and I don't mind telling you. So come, touch me and see."

She did. Condensing over two hours into just three minutes was rather overwhelming, but Kirk was used to it, and it didn't throw him. She withdrew, thanked him, and gestured him to precede her to Spock's side. He lay down on his back with his right hand in the vicinity of Spock's face. She sat on the floor at his head.

"I have seldom taken control of someone's body, and then only in a training situation. I have never used the skill to meld with another."

"Relax; take your time. I know you can do this. Doesn't matter to me what it feels like. I'm after function, not finesse."

She placed her hand on his face and initiated contact.

*In fact, if you want control of my whole body, that's fine. Whatever's easiest.*

*You meld so easily. Effortless. No transition or adjustment.*

*Are you surprised that a human can? Spock has trained me well.*

*You misunderstand. It cannot be trained. 90% of Vulcans cannot do what you do with ease. Those with much practice transition quickly, but there is still a transition.*

*Spock must be among the 10% then. And so are you. How delightful! No wonder your touch is easy. Anyway, how much control do you want?*

*The entire arm would be easier than just the hand. Though I have not actually done anything other than a whole body transfer.*

*Take it all, if that's what's easy.*

*You amaze me, Captain.*

*After what you've seen in my mind, you're still amazed?*

*Trust of Spock is one thing; you know him well. Trust of a stranger, without any need for covenants or pledges between us, is quite another.*

*Jesus in me has no reason to fear you.*

*You believe Jesus is the answer to everything.*

*Yes. So does Spock. But he needs help remembering what he knows.*

*You believe you can conquer the desolation just by reminding him of Jesus?*

*I'm not going to do the conquering. Jesus is. As soon as you quit stalling and get on with it.*

*Very well. In my training, the process took some fifteen minutes.*

*Faster than that would be nice.*

*It would be violent.*

*I don't care.*

Because she believed he really didn't care, she was able to do that which she'd never done before, take complete control in ten seconds flat.

*Great! You're doing good. Now the hand. This'll probably work best if you close your eyes, pretend for a moment that you are me, and just move the arm. That's right. Find Spock's face. Good. Now engage.*

Kirk found himself in Spock's entry room.

*Wonderful! That's just exactly what I needed. Thank you, T'Mai. I'll let you know when I'm ready to leave.*

Kirk dived straight for the connection site room, finding it in much the same condition as when he'd left it. Puddles of green blood, six fresh wounds throbbing their hurt, the cold wind of desolation blowing strongly, though not with hurricane force. Spock was huddled on the floor in the far corner. Kirk splashed to his side.

*Spock, can you hear me?*

No response.

Kirk tried to pry his fingers loose, but Spock rigidly would not move. Kirk placed his own fingers on Spock's face, and entered his mind. This mind however had no orderly entry room with neat corridors and rooms. Instead he saw nothing but a gray fog, heard nothing but the howling wind, felt nothing but the cold desolation.

*Spock! Where are you?*

No response.

_Jesus, take me to him. And get us back out of here._

Kirk began walking. As he penetrated deeper into the fog, it became darker. He began to quote Scripture aloud, and it became lighter again. Occasionally, he stopped and called Spock's name. He had no point of reference for direction, and very little time sense. He would be Jesus' feet for as long as it took. And he refused to be affected by either the wind or the desolation. On his third or fourth round through his favorite Scripture verses, he thought he heard a sound.

*Spock, can you hear me?*

*Jim? Is that you?*

*Keep talking, Spock. I'll come to you.*

*What are you doing here? How did you get here? Where is here? How long have I been here? Why am I so full of questions? It does not seem normal, but then nothing does.*

Kirk zeroed in on the voice and made his way to Spock's side. He was huddled in much the same position as his outer self, but at least this Spock was conscious.

*Spock! I've found you. Can you walk with me? Jesus will get us out of here.*

*I do not know. The wind is so strong. I lack the strength to fight it. I am so cold.*

*Can I hold you for a bit to warm you? Then you can lean on me as we walk. I'll fight the wind for you. Or if you can't walk, I can just carry you.*

*I would prefer to walk.*

*I figured you'd say that.* Kirk held Spock and rubbed his arms and legs, as he talked. *You have been wandering in this fog for far too long. I'll answer the rest of your questions when we get out of here. This place creates confusion, and you wouldn't grasp the answers if I gave them to you. Will you trust me?*

*Of course, Jim. When have I not trusted you?*

*I can't think of a time. Of course, you trust Jesus more than you trust me. 'Cause sometimes I make mistakes. Jesus never makes a mistake. Can you stand up now? Good. Lean on me. Give me your arm. Okay, we're going to start walking. As we walk, we're going to take turns quoting Scripture verses. Here's the first one. 'Nothing shall separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus my Lord.' Your turn.*

*'My grace is sufficient for you.'*

As they walked, and Spock faithfully took his turn with the Scripture verses, he got stronger. Finally he was walking on his own without help from Kirk. He stopped and turned to face Spock.

*Are you now strong enough to face the thing that drove you into this place?*

*I fled here to avoid facing something? This place is in my mind, then.*

*Yes.*

*How did you get here?* Spock was mildly curious.

*I had help. Jesus told me how. Right now the details are unimportant. But if you aren't ready to face it, then even if I take you out of here, you'll come right back. Better to stay here until you're ready.*

*I hate this place. Why would I come back?*

*Not surprising that you hate it. This place represents your emotional response to that which you fear to face.*

*My emotional response - I do not permit my emotions to control me. But you are saying I did. That which I refuse to face must be severe trauma, even for a Vulcan.*

*It is. Especially for this Vulcan.*

*Something unique to me. And you know what it is,* Spock deduced.

*So do you, if you'll let yourself remember it.*

*If I had to sum up this place in one emotional word, it would be desolation.*

*Yes.*

*Something caused me to feel desolate, completely and utterly alone and abandoned. But you came to find me, so I am no longer alone.*

*You never were alone. Jesus has been with you and in you all this time. But you were unaware of Him. I came to remind you of Jesus, to be His feet, His arms, His mouth in this place. He used me to reach you, because I knew what you were feeling.*

*How could you know?*

*I felt it too.*

*This trauma happened to you too?*

*Yes,* Kirk readily admitted.

*But you did not respond as I did.*

*Oh yes, I did. The details were a little different than this; everybody's unique. But it's essentially the same thing.*

*You are not now in your version of this mental state. Therefore, unless your trauma occurred earlier, your response somehow differs from mine.*

*The event happened simultaneously to the both of us. As I understand it, I snapped out of it when the people in this room prayed. When I did, I realized that what I had been feeling so overwhelmingly was your emotion, not mine. That's when I knew I had to come find you,* Kirk explained.

*You were feeling my emotion. How is that possible?*

*You're the expert. You tell me.*

*Are you saying you do not know?*

Kirk shook his head. *No, that's not what I'm saying.*

*The answer to that question is related to that which I do not want to face.*

*Yes.*

*You were feeling my emotion. Through a mind-meld?*

*A very special kind.*

*The death link. The severing.*

Suddenly Kirk was kneeling in green blood, his hand still placed on Spock's face. He removed his hand, and gazed into Spock's eyes. The desolation was still fighting for supremacy. Kirk felt it stronger here than in the gray fog, but Spock was in control for the moment. He raised an eyebrow.

*How is it that my mind permitted itself to believe you can perform the mind-meld?*

Kirk grinned. *Because I wanted you to believe it? Because you wanted to be rescued? Or perhaps because you knew I had gotten this far without your help.*

*So how did you get in here?*

*T'Mai.*

*I am surprised she would risk such a thing.*

*She is more than a little like you: compassionate, sure of her strengths, not afraid to admit her weakness. She didn't think she could do this, but she listened to what I said, and it worked.*

*I thank you for the rescue, but I do not believe it solves anything. As soon as you leave, I will again be lost in the desolation. I am only barely controlling it now. I am glad that you are not subject to this emotion. But given its hold on me, I am not surprised that you were unable to discern its source until the link was severed. I regret that you suffered so.*

*I don't. If I hadn't felt it, I would not know what you are going through. I would not have believed anything could have this strong a hold on you.*

*It is the curse of being Vulcan. We suppress the emotions precisely because they are so strong. We cannot allow them to rule us, or we would be destroyed. No Vulcan risks a death link unless it is absolutely necessary. Once such a close connection is established, we cannot tolerate its removal. The hole it leaves is too great a loss to bear.*

*You knew all this when you set up the link.*

*Yes. I hoped that my half-human heritage would save me from this. I guessed that once free of the link, you would be fine. Your response to my taking your memory and leaving you alone on Konti's ship led me to believe you could weather this as well.*

*Spock, you're right that it comes down to a question of identity. Knowing who you are makes all the difference. But you've got the wrong set of identity criteria on this thing. It's not because I'm human and you're Vulcan that I am free of this and you're not. I feel the desolation too. I saw the fog, heard the wind, felt the cold. When I was in the grip of it, I was as lost as you. When they prayed and I snapped out of it, the desolation immediately threatened to overwhelm me again.

*But once I was aware, I remembered who I was. Not that I had forgotten my name was Jim, or even that I was a Christian. But I had forgotten the power that was available to me because of who I am. I am the righteousness of God in Christ Jesus. Because of what He did, I am as righteous as God is, and I have all the power of God backing me up. In the face of that, what is this desolation? Nothing more than a pack of demons trying to make trouble. And they are an already-defeated foe. They are not going to win. Not over me. Not over you.

*Spock, you are as righteous as I am, as righteous as He is. You are a blood-bought, born-again, son of God. That is the identity that matters, not the fact that you're a Vulcan. Because of who you are, you have the authority to speak to that desolation and make it disappear. Gone like a wisp of smoke, never to return and plague you again. Jesus bought you that right, and He's waiting for you to take hold and demand your freedom. But I can't do it for you. This is your mind we're in. I can stand firm against it as long as I'm here, but only you have the authority to make it leave. All I can do is remind you of who you are, Whose you are, and what authority you have.*

*It is enough. Thank you.*

Spock straightened and they both stood up. Spock gazed at the six fresh wounds. Kirk looked at Spock.

*I, Spock, speak to you, desolation and all you related demons. In the name of Jesus, I command you to leave me, and never return. You may not plague me any longer. I am a righteous son of God. His spirit dwells with me, will never leave me, and I will never be alone. I fear you no longer, desolation; you have no more power over me. Thank you, Jesus!*

Kirk felt it leave without so much as a protest. The force of it lifted and was gone as if it had never been. He felt a warmth, washing, cleansing, like a sweet-smelling, spring rain. All the green blood was washed away. The six wounds were healed; they hurt no more. The connection sites were still there, perhaps as a memorial to what had occurred in this room. Kirk grinned at Spock and gave him a big bear hug.

xxxx

Four days later, _Enterprise_ prepared to leave Starbase 7. Kirk was gazing around his quarters in nostalgia. He had moved his things back into Cabin D-23 only that morning. One by one, his friends had returned the gifts he had bequeathed, so that the cabin now looked as it had before he'd left. It had been quite a year. No one had believed he would return. And even when he had, the restoration of all things had seemed impossible. But here he was. That night on the free fall court had been the final piece.

After Spock had kicked out the desolation demon, they'd thanked T'Mai for her assistance and broken the meld. The whole place erupted in a cheer when Spock stood up and announced his recovery. They'd given Tuvain another meld to see the events of the night. After that, the Vulcans and Fleet doc's had been politely but firmly escorted off the ship by Security officers. Perón and Sullivan had also left. Everybody else hung around for another three hours while he and Spock had debriefed the whole thing. Then everybody got a few hours sleep.

The official orders had come through the next day, and they'd held the change of captain ceremony the day after. Young, with Gisa and Nona, had departed after a farewell dinner. Usually Kirk hated such affairs, but Josh was a good friend he was going to miss. Another good friend he'd had to bid goodbye was Chuck Byrd. He was taking the _Milano_, a good choice. Tanis and Martin went with him as First Officer and Science Officer, respectively. Chief Thompson was getting the Base Commander position. She'd been overdue for promotion; Kirk had been reluctant to let her go. But he was getting Randy in her place, a good move for both.

He looked once more at the place he called home and sighed contentedly. Then he left for the Bridge. As he exited the lift, all his friends stood and gave him a round of applause. He grinned, shook hands all around, and took his place in the center seat.

"Thank you, people. It's good to be back. Scotty, all systems go?"

"Aye, Cap'n. She's purrin' an' rarin' ta go."

"Are we clear for departure?"

"Yes, sir, at your discretion, Captain," Uhura replied.

"Mr. Chekov, set course for Sector 29, Klingon Neutral Zone."

"Aye, aye, Keptin. Course laid in."

"Mr. Sulu, take her out. When we're clear, Warp Four, if you would please. We don't want to keep the Klingons waiting."

"Aye, Captain." Sulu grinned at him, while others chuckled quietly.

Kirk felt the warp engines kick in a few minutes later. He began to feel like he was truly home.

"Jim-" It was Bones on his left. "You seem entirely too happy to be going near Klingon space. I should think you'd seen enough of that kind of trouble for awhile."

Kirk turned and smiled. "I might meet a friend, Bones. You never know."

*Or make a new one.*

*Spock?! Did I hear you say that?*

*Yes, Jim, you did.*

*Can you explain this?*

*No. This is not a stressful environment.*

*Let's not advertise this, shall we?*

Within the hour, they had determined several things about this link. Either of them could initiate it or cut it off. It was effective for spoken thoughts, but contained no unspoken background chatter. It would communicate emotions without words, again voluntarily under their control. And no adverse emotions appeared when they cut it off. In short, all the benefits without the problems.

_Lord, did you do this, or is it a residual effect, and it will disappear?_

_ I did it, Jim. My gift to the both of you. I can trust you with this. It will not damage you. It will be useful in the work I have for you. But mostly, I just want you to enjoy it. I love you both, my sons._


End file.
